Phantoms of the Mind
by SingsforPhantom
Summary: Th journey continues past Leroux's epic tale of the masked man who dwelled beneath Paris's Opera House. Now that the Phantom's one love, Christine Daae has left him with the Vicomte de Chagny, Erik must seek out a new life, a new love, and a new story be
1. The Beginning of the End

Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End

Her fingernails grazed his fingers as she closed the beautiful Swarovski engagement ring into his trembling hand. This feeling he felt ached more than any pain he had endured in all of his life. Christine, the love of his life, was leaving and never coming back. What was left in his life to love now? For she, his muse, was his music too. How could he love music now when every time his fingers would play a soft requiem he would think of her and what he had lost?

The Phantom looked into her eyes hoping that his tears might awaken any love she had for him. Her eyes looked sad but resolved; he no longer held any power over her. She turned away from him and then left forever. His eyes flowed with the jewels of many tears. Somehow, she, this innocent chorus girl had broken him. After that kiss, he could not ask any more of her. Although she had broken his soul, she had also freed him; she had freed him to love her. And in loving her he knew that he had to let her go to the one person she loved—even if it was the Vicomte de Chagny.

He heard them sail away on his boat back to the light. How the hell was he supposed to leave now? Standing up he walked out to the shore of his lair and watched her float away from him. Once more, she turned towards his direction and their eyes met. _You alone, can make my song take flight_, he thought feeling his hurt ball into the pit of his stomach. Balling his fists until he felt his nails claw his skin, he caught his reflection in the mirror. That wretched monster was the one who would die tonight, not him.

Phantom grabbed a candlestick and furiously brought it down upon the glass with a poignant blow. The tears began to flow again but he did not stop vandalizing his own reflection. He had had enough; this was the beginning of the end. The Phantom smashed every mirror in his layer until the pain lessened. Exhausted and covered in perspiration he dropped the candlestick and took one last look at his domain. It was the last time he believed he would ever see it again.


	2. An Abandoned Lair

Chapter 2: An Abandoned Lair

Despite her mother's warning Meg traipsed through the disgusting sewer water that led into the Phantom's lair. She looked around in naïve wonder. For her this was as surreal as visiting Cinderella's castle. Her eyes brimmed with excitement and a little fear and she ogled at the beautiful candelabras and grand organ. Her feet touched dry land at last and she searched around trying to find the Phantom. Her heart secretly hoped she would find him. Like her mother, she pitied him and was sure she would feel no fear.

Meg walked aimlessly around the lair until she made her way to a small chamber covered in broken glass. She discovered the broken mirrors and a little wind up monkey toy sitting on a table. She almost smiled at the innocent toy. Then her heart leapt as she saw a lonely white mask sitting on the table next to the toy. Almost afraid, she picked up the mask carefully and glanced around hoping to catch a glimpse of its owner. She realized the truth… he would not go anywhere without that mask. She felt tears blur her eyes; the Phantom was dead.


	3. Into the Light

Chapter 3: Into the Light

The darkness had always been his ally. The cool pathways underneath the opera never frightened or hindered him. Now that the Phantom was dead, it was Erik who lived. His cat-like eyes adjusted beautifully to the dark; he knew where the corridor led, that frightened him more than the dark. The light loomed ahead and his heart raced in anticipation. After immuring himself within these walls, he had died and been reborn. A new life waited for him at the end. No more Phantom; he kept thinking it as he raced faster.

He opened a grate from underneath the opera house and stepped into the arms of the night. The moon glistened on the black ground but it could not cause him fear. He enveloped his cloak around him and savored the sweet smells of the outside. Perhaps not pleasant smells but the aroma of fresh air filled his lungs and the wind blew across his naked face, reminding him of his vulnerability. He had to find a place to stay until he could determine his next move. He decided to go to one of the more questionable parts of Paris. No one there would question his identity.

The smell of the air seemed to decay as he neared one of the dark alleys of downtown Paris. The woman became most scantily dressed and began making advance towards him in an effort to secure their meals for the following morning. Although in his vulnerable disposition, he avoided their offers of meaningless sex. His appeared hauteur seemed to aggravate them further since he refused to pull down his hood. His heart was frozen in a cold lock. 

His aberrant walk turned a couple heads but he looked threatening enough that most stayed at a comfortable distance from him. Erik finally saw what he was looking for: Le Chat Bleu. (Not to be confused with Le Chat Noir.) This hotel was appropriate enough for his needs at the moment.

Erik walked through the doors and up to the concierge. She was a thin woman with severe lips and wispy, uncombed gray hair. Her face might have encouraged him to let down his hood had their not been other people around.

"I require a room Madame, if you'd be so kind." She looked at him strangely, obviously not accustomed to being addressed in such a formal manner. She took the francs he dumped on the counter and handed him a key. 

"Second floor, dearie, third door on your left." Erik thanked her and walked up the two flights to his room. Unlocking the door, he peered into it suspiciously. Just what he needed; the room made him nauseous. After living so comfortably in his home at the Opera, he grimaced at his new home.

He quickly closed and locked the door behind him, removed his cloak, and sat on the bed. He sighed and laid down in exhaustion. He lifted one hand and pressed it delicately against his deformed cheek. The rough scars and malformations of his cheek were an odd sensation against his hand. He screwed up his face in pain, not believing that a beautiful girl like Christine had touched his face when she kissed him. Her hands had run along the side of his face and he almost flinched at the memory. That kiss had been the pinnacle of his life, the thought of her hands caressing him made him shudder. He had to block her out; he had to forget that life.


	4. Isabelle

Chapter 4: Isabelle

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, he sprang up in response and draped his cloak over his shoulders and more importantly, over his face. He saw the knob twist and his heart immediately pictured Christine opening that door and throwing herself into an embrace with him. He shook his head and prepared for the worst. The door creaked slowly and a young woman entered the room.

Erik squinted as if he recognized her. The woman was clearly a prostitute but young, strong looking, and strikingly beautiful. The girl gasped when she saw him at first but then smiled.

"Erik?" She whispered his name with such beautiful tonality that he immediately knew who this woman was. 

"Isabelle?" She smiled at him and walked up to him. He felt strange seeing her after all of these years. Isabelle used to dance at the opera populaire until she was too old and was asked to leave. Erik had run into her while leaving the opera house one evening and somehow become quick friends with her. He assumed she only felt sorry for him and ignored her fear to make him comfortable. In reality, Isabelle missed Erik when she began working on the street.

"Erik, I knew it was you. No other human being walks like that." She shyly put her hand on his shoulder and embraced him. He grew stiff at this simple act of human affection and caught a whiff of her hair. He could sense how thin and frail she was; she used to be so strong when she danced. He always had thought she was once of the best dancers; even better than little Meg Giry. His heart felt for her and the ill that she must give herself to men who did not love her.

"Isabelle, you disappoint me." They parted and she suddenly looked ashamed.

"Perhaps… I guarantee you that I disappoint myself more. Unfortunately I have accepted my place and appreciate the new skills I have acquired." She winked at him mischievously and Erik could feel himself blush under his cloak. She sensed his discomfort and eased off a little bit.

"I'm sorry Erik; I don't mean to treat you like that. I sometimes forget what I was before this life. That brings me to why I came up to see you, I saw you slip into the hotel. What are you doing here; why on earth did you leave the opera?"

He sighed and gestured for her to sit on the bed while he sat at a distance in a chair. This story would be fairly time consuming. He told her about the new managers, about Christine, the Vicomte de Changy, his temporary insanity, his love, his hate, his jealousy, and destroyed lair. Isabelle listened to him very well and did not interrupt or comment. She sat on his bed, her legs crossed in a lady-like fashion, her expression changing many times during his story. He thought he saw her brow furrow a bit when he told her how Christine left him, but he was not sure.

During his story, he watched her. She really was a beautiful woman who was thin and feminine looking with jade green eyes and long, slightly matted, but a deep shade of red. When she danced, she used to stick out like a sore thumb on the stage. After he finished his story, she had some tears in her eyes which surprised him. She stepped off the bed and knelt at his feet clasping her hands over his. Erik felt his weakness overtaking him.

She stroked his hands, "I cannot believe what has happened to you. I can't believe that a woman… would… oh Erik I cannot even say it…" she trailed off as more tears flowed down her rouged cheeks. Her compassion astounded him. 

"Please don't cry for me, I don't deserve it." Then he paused. "What can you not believe about a woman?"

She shifted in her crouched position and then sighed, "Oh Erik, I do not want to raise your hopes or hurt you any more than you have been."  
He was confused, "Isabelle I don't understand, but I don't much more can hurt me now."

Isabelle squeezed his hands affectionately, "Alright, I won't lie to you. I cannot believe a woman would give up the man she loved for a title."  
Erik sat up in shock. What had she said? He responded coolly, "Isabelle, Christine did not love me. She loved her Vicomte."

Isabelle continued to massage his hands and seemed fixed upon them as she dreamily responded, "I don't think so Erik. I think she was afraid of what loving you meant and got scared. She was too naïve to handle you."

Erik stiffened in his chair. It could not be true and he wouldn't believe it. He wrested his hands from her grip and stood up. Isabelle looked hurt but let him pace the room. She was a tall woman and the top of her head nearly reached his chin. He ignored her presence while he settled her thoughts. He finally verbalized his unrest,

"But why? Why would she hurt me if she loved me? Better yet why did she leave? Isabelle, I can't handle this. She is all that I think about! All the time, all I want it to hold her and protect her and she…"

He stopped and slumped his shoulders. He bit his lip to stop the tears but a few came anyways. Isabelle stood opposite of him and timidly put her hand on his quivering shoulder. Her touch surprised him and he turned around and they locked eyes. Something in her eyes bewildered him. She looked at him with a longing he recognized. Had the women in this city gone insane? He brushed past her and sat back down in the chair.


	5. Love Between Friends

Chapter 5- Love Between Friends

Isabelle walked up toward him and knelt in front of him again. Erik glanced at her with a longing for closeness that he could not suppress. Isabelle placed her hand suggestively on his knee. This time Erik did not push her away; he did not have the strength anymore. He tried to relax and closed his eyes. He heard a soft music in his head as Isabelle caressed his hands and slipped her fingers between his. Slowly, she lifted his hands and delicately kissed them.

He did not love Isabelle as he loved Christine and as he realized what was about to happen and stood up so abruptly that he almost knocked Isabelle over. He spun around at her, lowering his hood,

"Look Isabelle, I know I may seem like an easy client, desperate, alone, ugly, but I don't have the money to pay for your services. So why don't you go find some other poor lonely man to seduce."

She looked hurt but braved his face. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I don't want you to pay me, Erik. I care about you and I think it's time you understood that not everything has to be explained or is done out of pity. Maybe… I just want you? You're looked after me a lot of my life, and I owe you a little of my love." 

He looked at her and suddenly she was kissing him and he was kissing her back. She guided his lips and moved her arms seductively along his back and neck. He felt her lips brush past his and moved to his neck. Erik closed his eyes, completely new to these sensations. He dipped his nose into her copper colored hair and exhaled its sweet feminine scent. Isabelle sighed and began to slowly discard what little clothing she wore. Erik began to notice that she was unbuttoning his shirt and running her hands along his chest. There was no going back now.


	6. New Hope

Chapter 6- New Hope 

Once his shirt was off, the shock of her female form against his bare body awakened instincts he thought had vanished years ago. The music in his head grew louder and all at once her hands reached for the buttons on his trousers.

They moved to the bed, tangling themselves in the sheets. Isabelle was experienced and gently guided Erik's movements and soon they moved as one. Erik never knew he could feel this way or that any woman would give herself to him. With Isabelle he did not feel any embarrassment. She had probably seen it all, and aside from his face she had no reason to be repulsed.

Isabelle lifted herself from on top of him and slid beside him. Erik sighed and turned his head to look at her. Isabelle smiled, almost coyly, and Erik thought he saw her blush. Erik could not help but smile, he sweetly kissed her cheek and stood up.

Isabelle unashamedly sat up, covering herself with the sheet, "A standing ovation? How appropriate of you, it's been a long time… although the one you just gave me was more than satisfactory." She grinned and Erik blushed as he began to put his trousers back on.

"I cannot believe I allowed you to seduce me," he murmured as Isabelle grinned.

"Well come on Erik you were just begging for it to happen, you just needed to find the right woman up for the task." He smiled tiredly as he buttoned his shirt.

"You are too kind to me."

"I'm not kind, I'm in love. I don't know if I love you but I had a wonderful time just the same."

"I did too. You're an amazing woman, Isabelle. God knows I don't deserve you, not many men could or will. Please take care of yourself." He searched the room for his discarded cloak." Isabelle had begun to dress also. 

"You flatter me, but not many men will sleep with a hooker for free, if you know what I mean. I'll just have to wait for some handsome fool to fall madly in love with me and…" she stopped herself realizing what she had implied, "Oh Erik, I didn't mean." 

Erik turned away hiding his hurt, "No, don't, it's alright."

Isabelle bit her lip in regret and gave him a confirming embrace. Erik was about to leave when he turned,

"Isabelle… you look different to me after all these years."

Isabelle shifted away from him uncomfortably and grabbed the rest of her clothing off the floor in a rush.

"I probably just look older Erik, that's all. It's been awhile since you've seen me you know."  
Erik looked suspiciously at her and then grabbed her shoulders firmly and examined her face.

"Erik, please!" she squirmed in his grasp, "Stop staring at my face, you among all people know what that feels like now let me go!" Erik dropped his hands but could not stop staring at her. Isabelle turned from him and whispered,   
"What is wrong with you?"

Erik spoke, "Your face is different. You were always a beautiful girl but now, you're… perfect. Your lips and nose and even your cheeks are tapered and artificial looking… how…"

Isabelle spun around with tears in her eyes, "Don't you dare judge me Erik! You have little perspective on feminine beauty so do not presume to say I was beautiful. They kicked me out of the ballet because the rich patrons did not care to look upon my face as much as your precious Christine or even Meg. They kicked me out because I was plain and homely. Do you have any idea how hard it is to do what I do now looking homely? Goddamn it Erik!" She rustled around the room but soon found herself in Erik's comforting embrace. Her tears stained his cloak but left no mark.

When she had calmed down a bit she explained herself,

"I met this man while looking for customers this one evening. By this time I had had some men but I was poor and starving and not looking very appeasing to most men. But this man was middle aged, and plain himself so I jumped at the chance of a meal. After… words, he told me he was a doctor, a plastic surgeon. I was too dumb to understand what that was but he told me he could make me beautiful if I slept with him for free. I was so stupid Erik, I believed him. He cut me open and sewed me back together and I became this. Thank God he was brilliant Erik, or I don't know what would have happened… I get ten times as much work now."

Erik paused to admire her face, and then slowly asked the question, 

"Isabelle, you don't remember the name of this man do you?" There was such hope in his voice. Under his façade of strength he was still just that little boy who wanted nothing more than to look like everyone else.

She stared at him and almost whispered to him, "His name is Dr. Guillaume Fournier. Tomorrow I'll take to you where he works. I can't remember his address." 

Before she could leave, Erik grabbed her hand, "I would prefer if you stayed here tonight, Madamoiselle. It's safer here with me."

Isabelle smiled and hugged him. Erik did not see the tears filling her eyes but he would never see, nor would he ever know how much she truly loved him. Taking him to that plastic surgeon might be one of the few acts of true kindness she could ever really bestow upon him.


	7. Journey to the Beginning

Chapter 7- Journey to the Beginning

Isabelle woke up to an empty bed; Erik must have woken up earlier. She heard him rustling around from the other side of the room. He was shirtless and examining his face in the Spartan mirror on the wall. Isabelle girlishly admired him from a distance. His non-scarred side was facing her and she could not help thinking about what a fool this Christine Daae was. Her peaceful moment lasted only a few more seconds for Erik was soon aware that she was watching him. He seemed amused,

"Must you stare at me?" She was about to protest but his face wore an almost boyish smirk. Isabelle rolled her eyes, walking up to Erik, lightly punching his shoulder. Erik smiled and watched her walk over to the tattered bureau to fix her hair. He watched her twist her locks into a moderately sophisticated knot on her head. Without turning around she teased him,

"Must you stare at _me_?" Erik smiled and buttoned his shirt again. Isabelle was truly a feisty girl. She managed to fix her appearance to look relatively modest. Erik fastened his cape and followed her out of the decrepit hotel.

People stared a little bit as Erik followed Isabelle down the streets of Paris, out of the dirty alleys and into the true core of the city. Erik tried to keep his head down, but it had been such a long time since he had seen this city in the light that he could not help but peer around at the beautiful colors of the buildings. Parisian architecture never failed to capture his imagination.

At last they reached Dr. Fournier's office, Erik stared at the building as if it was the Gateway of Heaven; a place he never expected to ever see. Isabelle hooked her arm around his and gave him a little assurance to walk through the doors.

The office was small but revealed Dr. Fournier's success in his business through sophisticated trinkets lying around. Isabelle disappeared for a brief moment leaving the cloaked Erik alone. Erik sat down on a velvet upholstered chair and waited. It killed him that he could be so close to having the one thing he hated about his life reversed and the idea that it was all a dream.


	8. Dr Fournier

Chapter 8- Dr. Fournier 

After some time, a disheveled Dr. Fournier walked out with Isabelle. Erik stood up and noticed Isabelle's hair was also unkempt. Her face flushed and she could not look Erik in the eye. Dr. Fournier appeared to be an older than Erik, a funny looking man with caricature-like features. Erik almost laughed that someone with such a face was a plastic surgeon. But he couldn't laugh because he was too busy fixating on Isabelle, who had clearly just paid his bill with the doctor. Erik gave Isabelle a look which she returned with a sad smile. Erik could not believe she had done that for him.

Dr. Fournier looked at Erik with a clear smile of what had just happened and then quizzically at Erik's hood.

"Well Monsieur… 

"Erik, just Erik, please, Monsieur le Doctor."

The doctor stared at him and then ignored Erik's response, "Well, now that… everything is taken care of I'm personally and professionally very interested in… examining your condition. Isabelle here says that you will challenge me; that is splendid, I love a challenge."

Erik felt a little uncomfortable at being treated like a medical experiment but appreciated the impartiality he would bring to his situation. Dr. Fournier beckoned for Erik to follow him into his examining room. Isabelle found his hand as he walked back and squeezed it encouragingly. Erik returned with a half smile not believing all she had done for him these last hours. He would never forget her kindness.

Dr. Fournier's office was Spartan in comparison to his sitting room. Erik felt nervous but sat in the patient chair in front of him while the doctor politely asked him to remove his cloak. Erik slowly took the cloak off and his face was revealed. The doctor did not even flinch. He stared academically at Erik's face and made some small notes on a pad of paper.

He continued to examine Erik's face, poking him and examining the deformity with his finger asking if his actions were painful at all. The doctor then asked Erik to remove his shirt to which Erik responded rather poorly. The doctor calmly replied that he had to give Erik a small examination to determine whether Erik could be a candidate for any kind of surgery. Erik complied and removed his shirt and the doctor listened to his heart, breathing, and seemed to be examining his neck and where the deformity stopped. 

After what felt like forever Dr. Fournier told Erik that he could replace his shirt and cloak (if he wished) and then sat down at his desk writing more notes, and pulling books off of his shelves. Erik stood up and straightened him appearance the best that he could while waiting for the doctor's final verdict.  
Dr. Fournier finally sat up and glanced over his shoulder at Erik. Erik finally spoke after so much anticipation.

"Look Monsieur, I have lived my entire life as I am and have found ways to… compensate. But after a lifetime of wanting to become more than I am, I must know if it is possible. I do not want to get my hopes up, Monsieur. I only ask you to speak frankly. No more, no less." He dug his nails into the palms of his hands as he waited for the Doctor to respond.  
D  
r. Fournier stood up and moved his chair closer to where Erik was seated. This was it,

"Welcome Monsieur… Erik. I have never seen such deformities on a healthy, grown man. I fear I must be frank with you most children who were born with such deformities did not make it past their birth. We live in a more accepting society now but I have never seen anything quite like yours. I'm sure as you have seen from Isabelle's face that I am rather brilliant; do not think of me as boastful but rather honest and aware of my abilities. I would tell a patient if I could not take care of his or her particular problem or if that patient did not require my services. You do require my services quite direly in fact and I believe that I could make a difference in your life, of course it does involve some dangers as any surgery does. It's not a decision to be taken lightly."

Erik stood up, "Monsieur I understand the risk involved and I ask that you help me as soon as possible. I believe it to be worth the risk. You have no idea how different my life would be with a face like everyone else…" 

"You would be surprised, Monsieur. Every patient I have had experienced siginificant life changes after I operate on them. Look at Isabelle."

Erik flinched slightly at the doctor's mention of Isabelle but ignored it as the doctor looked through his book to give him a date that would be a good time for him to operate, 

"Surprisingly enough I do have an opening available tonight, if you want the operation to happen soon. I suppose the sooner you go through it, the sooner you will heal. The only problem will be whether you have somewhere to stay and someone to look after your healing. It will be a difficult journey filled with longs of pain and days when you will wish that you had never had anything done. Do you think you will be able to handle it?"

Erik smiled to himself, after all he had endured? "Yes, sir, I believe I will be fine."

"Good then return to me tonight around 7 'o clock and we will begin. Find a place to live, eat a good meal before hand, and be prompt."

Erik fastened his cloak, "Thank you, Monsieur."

Isabelle sat on a one of the velvet chairs her legs crossed waiting for Erik. She stood up when Erik came out and approached him like a coy little girl. Erik offered her his arm and she took it without question. They left the Doctor's office with hearts fully aware of how Erik's life has just changed.


	9. Point of No Return

Chapter 9- Point of No Return

The were silent for awhile as they walked until they approached a garden and sat next to each other on a secluded bench away from the crowds. Isabelle took this opportunity to speak, 

"Erik… I know you have dreamed of his your entire life, I cannot doubt it. But are you scared?"

Erik shifted uncomfortably at the question, little scared him, "If you could do it, so can I. I am strong and this means more to me than anything."   
Isabelle looked down hurt by his cold words but held his hand in affection anyway. "I think I love you Erik, I love you the way you are. If you need somewhere to stay you are more than welcome." 

Erik squeezed her hand, "Your words flatter me, Isabelle. You have been so much more than a friend to me you must know that. I owe you a great many dreams, but I don't think I can ever love another person that way again. I would never want to hurt you…" 

Isabelle stopped him in an attempt at self-preservation, "I mean I love you as a friend Erik… despite our having, you know, just, don't worry about it. But I insist that you stay with me." 

"If you insist, Isabelle, as I am forever in your debt for my surgery."  
Isabelle blushed, "I do what I can Erik." 

For the next couple hours before the surgery, Isabelle walked Erik around the city, avoiding a lot of people since he was still unmasked. They ate dinner at a small café (Isabelle paid for them again.) And the time drew closer, and closer. The soft hue of pink in the sky told Erik that his time had approached. The moment that would change his life had come at last.


	10. The Operation

Chapter 10- The Operation

The operation itself was a blur; Erik could barely remember how he got back to Dr. Fournier's office. The nerves in his stomach overwhelmed him and clouded the logic that normally maintained his emotion. All he could recall was lying on Dr. Fournier's operating table and seeing Christine's face before the drugs doused his consciousness.

Erik woke up with a distant pain in his face. The bandage wrapped around him and he could barely see thought he slits cut in the dressing. He moaned in drowsy awareness and Dr. Fournier addressed him,

"Erik… I'm amazing you are already conscious, most of my patients do not wake for several hours but if you can understand me I will explain a little bit about what you are feeling."

A tired Erik nodded and thus Dr. Fournier continued,

"The pain in your face will not subside for awhile, unless you find yourself impervious to pain. You will bruise, you may bleed, you most likely will swell, all of these are natural reactions to such intense surgery. Most importantly I would like to inform you that I believe the surgery went very well. It took about five hours, but I think you will be pleased."

Erik shifted on the table in a stupor and then closed his eyes beneath the bandages in an attempt to sleep away the throbbing. He felt so concerned about the results of his surgery despite Dr. Fournier's positive feedback. Had he done the right thing?

Isabelle could not have been a better nurse to Erik. He brought him ice when he swelled, blankets when he had fever from slight infection, she dressed and redressed his bandages, covering his face with cool cream that Dr. Fournier had provided, and spoon fed him meals when his lips tinged with agony. Erik had felt worse pain in his life, but never was that pain coupled with the regret. As Dr. Fournier predicted, Erik's face turned the shades of plum and mango with bruises and his face contorted far more from swelling than with his original misshapenness. Isabelle never flinched; she knew this kind of healing from experience and brought perspective to him. Her words of optimism kept Erik alive during the months it took him to heal.

Erik always felt guilty for burdening Isabelle with his surgery. She would work twice as hard to keep him healthy while paying her own expenses. After four months it had begun to take its toll; Isabelle fell slightly ill. By this time, Erik could move about and help out cleaning or cooking. He nursed Isabelle whilst she nursed him.

After six months, Erik took his final visit to Dr. Fournier; today would be the day he would take off the bandages and see the new face that had been created for him. Isabelle came with him and they sat in Dr. Fournier's office anxiously awaiting the big reveal.

Dr. Fournier first examined the bandages, Erik's heartbeat, and breathing, as usual, "All excellent Erik, you have had some worse spells than most of my patients but Isabelle seems to have worked her magic on you, today you are ready to see your new face.

Erik shivered as Dr. Fournier cut through the layers of gauze that separated him from the world. It took some time but at last the gauze was removed, Erik's eyes closed upon instinct, aware that his naked face was exposed to the world. Dr. Fournier examined Erik's face, feeling the cheekbone, lips, and forehead with precision. Seemingly satisfied, he took a mirror from one of his drawers, "Everything looks perfect Erik, I think you will be more than happy. Take a look at your new face."

Erik slowly opened his eyes. The mirror appeared in front of him like a cold vision from a dream. His image first blurry and then… clear. Erik stared at his new reflection and gasped. What had he done?


	11. This Haunted Face

Chapter 11- "This Haunted Face, Holds No Horror For Me Now"

The face that stared back at him was unrecognizable. His eyes brimmed under two beautiful shaped eye sockets, past a symmetrically contoured nose, and down two equally shaped cheeks as he smiled with the smile of an attractive man who recently discovered his reflection. He was Narcissus and could not stop grinning; mirrors would never hold fear for him. After about fifteen minutes, Erik turned Dr. Fournier who was admiring his work with a superior grin.

Now having observed every nook and cranny of his face, Erik now explored the contours of his face with his sensitive fingers. The disbelief he experience while touching his face filled him with a joy that he could not express. He longed for his organ to write sweet symphonies conveying this new feeling.

Dr. Fournier handed him his mask, "Everything is healed beautifully, I don't think you will need this anymore." Erik took the mask and stared at it. The empty shell seemed to shrivel in front of his eyes. He almost instinctively put the mask back on his face. Dr. Fournier raised his eyebrows.

"I want to surprise Isabelle," Erik said decidedly, "I don't think she will recognize me."

"She will, but I must say you are quite improved. She'll be happy for you." Erik shook the doctor's hand tightly, unable to express his gratitude. He walked out with his mask on, barely able to contain his glee. Isabelle was sitting in a chair her hands tightly folded with anxiety. When she saw him she stood up quickly and then lost courage as she walked towards him. She looked so frightened when she saw his mask on his face. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she whispered in his ear,

"Oh Erik I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry that I made you go through this. It doesn't matter, it doesn't! Just, take this stupid thing off."

Before Erik could resist stopping her, Isabelle ripped off the mask and dropped it in shock. She nearly fell over before Erik grabbed her to stabilize her. She shrugged him free backing up as she observed his face with an open mouth. Erik tried his hardest not to smile but he could not control himself and his perfectly proportioned grin beamed across his face as Isabelle cupped her hands over her mouth.

"I cannot believe…" she began to shake with her overwhelming feelings. She did not know whether to cry from happiness, fear, or anger. Her happiness for his new life, her fear that he now wouldn't need her and her anger that he had lied to her, all these emotions added to her expression.

Erik seemed to understand her reaction for he approached her and put his hands on her face. She melted at his touch but remained resolved to be a little angry at him. She pushed him again and tried to walk away, he grabbed her again but she slapped his hand away and walked towards the door. He put his hand on the door so she couldn't open it. Isabelle shrieked but he would not move. Finally she faced him, 

"What Erik! What do you want from me now? You got what you want; you're… completely and utterly attractive. We're both frauds though, we both know how homely we are inside and yet we will fool people for the rest of our lives. I haven't changed Erik, I'm still the same frightened girl I was years ago. I care about you more than I have ever cared about anyone but I don't know if I can be yours anymore. Now that… you'll have your pick of women and I can't… I can't live with you always wondering. I'm leaving. You look…" she walked up to him and placed a faltering hand on his cheek. She smiled and kissed him deeply. They shared a passionate embrace but then she pulled away.

"You are the most attractive man I've ever kissed, Erik… and you are also the most unattractive…" she turned to look at him on last time, "don't follow me Erik, spread your wings, find me if you need me. Otherwise, you know where I'll be. Just… don't forget the man you are." With that she left Erik standing there are she went out the door and turned around the corner.

Erik tried to run after her but somehow, she was gone. He held the mask in his hand and looked around the city. The city breeze blew on his face; he looked up into the sun and felt the warm rays on his cheek. Where was he to go now?


	12. New Duets

Chapter 12- New Duets 

"Ah! Je ris de me voir. Si belle en ce miroir... " Sang the great opera diva from Vienna. Madamoiselle Katharina Kramer. Her beautiful soprano soured out through the Opera Garnier and filled the room with music. Her voice matched her face as well; her angelic features helped to encourage many men in the audience. Faust was closing in a week and the house had never been more packed. Everyone clamored to hear her voice and see her long, fine blond hair on top of a perfectly feminine figure. The voice that came out of her delicate body was unbelievable.

After her splendid aria, the house roared with approval. Then another draw of the opera appeared upon stage… Faust himself. "La fièvre de mes sens se dissipe à sa vue!" The new tenor of the Opera House, origin unknown, sang even more heartbreakingly than the young Austrian Madamoiselle. Enrique David had captured the hearts of the women in the audience. His voice made these women yearned for him heart and soul. His face and body were almost as pleasing. He was tall with a thin masculine build; he had muscular arms and chest. His face was flawless, and although it was obvious that he wore a wig, it was not uncommon. Unfortunately, there were rumors that these two beautiful singers were lovers; perfectly matched they all thought.

Finally the final duet ended and the singers took their bows. Another standing ovation bought smirks of success from the singing duo. They acknowledged each other with smiles and bowed once more before the curtain could close.  
From behind the curtain they shared an obnoxiously passionate kiss. The ballet dancers giggled while chorus members shook their heads. Erik and Katharina parted and smiled at each others' success.

"You were fabulous," Erik cooed to Katharina. She giggled and agreed, "I was wasn't I?" They held hands and walked back to their dressing rooms. She began to complain,

"If Mephistopheles does not learn that cue, I will personally have him fired. You know I have certain sway with our darling directors." He subtly cringed at her selfishness but kissed her hand. She seductively wrapped her arms around him in another dramatic embrace before entering her dressing room.

Erik smiled and went back to his own dressing room. He entered and closed the door behind him, humming the final duet to himself. As he turned around he gasped in surprise. There was someone waiting for him in his dressing room.


	13. Unexpected Visitors

Chapter 13- Unexpected Vistors

"Antoinette… I didn't expect to see you here. This is my private chamber." Erik began to straighten certain articles on his dressing table. "What do you want?" Antoinette took a deep breath and began to speak,

"Enrique… Erik, I know who you are. I've known since the beginning, and I have not breathed a word to anyone. I have been so happy for your successes, but I cannot keep quiet anymore. What kind of person have you become? Look at yourself, you drink, and smoke, and sleep with women—don't lie I know you do—and seem to have forgotten who you are. You are together with his Katharina person… Erik, she is worse than Carlotta was!"

Erik rolled his eyes and smiled, "So if I do not become the pathetic monster I used to be, you will do what exactly? I believe enjoying the company of a few women if far less of a crime than murder, Antoinette." His smile became more intense and Madame Giry lost some of her bravery. She edged towards the door, Erik might have changed but she was certain he had not lost his ability to kill.

"I am not the sort who would resort to blackmail, Erik. I have not lost my morals." And with that she left the room and shut the door. He looked back at the door and grimaced. She had no business to butt into his affairs. He could be whoever he wanted to be and was not forced to assume a certain role. Now he could be whatever role he wanted, and he could have any woman he wanted. Erik loved power and now, he held more than he ever had before his surgery. He was not letting Antoinette Giry get in his way.

He took off his costume and put on his black silk dressing robe, a gift from Katharina. As he opened some letters from admirers, he heard a knock at the door. He exhaled deeply in annoyance, now what? He walked towards the door, still in his robe, and opened it. This time he opened his eyes wide in surprise; it was Christine.

He could not stop staring, she looked older, it had been about a year since had seen her. Her hair was done up in aristocratic fashion and her dress had so much silk and lace she almost looked like a doll. A huge engagement ring glittered on her petit hands and earrings of similar size sat upon her ears. She looked to ladylike and mature. Yet, even after all of this time, her very presence reminded him of his old feelings. He felt like he had traveled back in time, when he was aching for her to love him.

The silence was broken at last, "Erik… oh God, it's really you. I… I knew it was you when I heard you sing but… God you're face. I… I'm really happy for you."

Erik straightened and began to oraganize some of his flowers that graced his dressing table and regained his newfound arrogance, "Yes, well, I am sure you wish things had turned out differently between us now right?" he laughed wryly and glanced at her reaction in the mirror. She looked down at the floor biting her lip. He was almost enjoying how uncomfortable she was. "Well," he thought, "she should be. She seeks me out now that I'm not a horrible monster. What on earth does she expect?"

"I'm sorry Erik, please don't assume anything other than one friend coming to congratulate another friend on such a wonderful performance. I always knew you would be up here someday. I only wish that…" Erik could see that she was crying. 

"Why are you crying, Christine? What could be wrong with your perfect life? Your perfect husband, your diamonds, what more could a girl want Christine?" He had never been so angry with her; she had the nerve to crawl back to him after breaking his heart? 

Christine seemed to have new strength to stand up to Erik now. She walked over to his chair and pushed his shoulder, "I did not come here to pick a fight with you Erik; I don't know why I came! Now my decision is looking very poor, but if anything, I came to make amends. You were such a big part of my life and I miss any friendship that we had. Do not even think to patronize me with my reaction to your face! I admit I was frightened of you at one time, but in the end it was your soul that frightened me. Regardless of what I felt for you…" she stopped realizing what she had said but continued, "I could not be the brunt of your unhappiness Erik. And do not presume to compose a perfect symphony of my life. You know nothing of what I am now."

Amused by her courage, Erik stood up and revealed the height he held upon her. She did not cower but stared up boldly into his blue eyes. He almost felt like a small child being scolded under her gaze, but shaking the feeling he continued to counter,

"Oh, pardon, Madame de Countess, your life is now terrible? Do not complain to me, for you chose this life and now should suffer the consequences for it?" She seemed to shrink as he stung her with words, still he continued to sneer, "Do not tell me that your darling Vicomte beats you daily and gives you too much finery." He laughed and then stopped. Her eyes welled with tears and she turned away in defeat.

Somewhere inside him something reached out to console her and he found himself embracing the weeping Countess. She clung to him desperately, his silk robe being slowly dampened with her hidden sorrows. He let her release for awhile and then he pulled her away gently and firmly asked, "Has Raoul struck you?"

Christine wiped her eyes with a handkerchief, "Well… once… not intentionally but Erik that is not the point." Erik's eyes blazed with what he would do to Raoul if he ever saw him. "It's just… ever since… well… I just envy you so much and I wish that I could be… the stage is my passion and Raoul won't…he would prefer I not sing here because… too many memories…" She started crying again and Erik held her. He could never ever be mad at Christine, not forever, he would always feel a need to protect and love her.

Christine let herself go and looked into Erik's eyes. Tentatively she reached her hand up and placed it on his cheek. Something inside him ached for her, different than any of the other women he had been with recently; there was love here, passion, and history. She stroked his cheek with her hand and over his nose and lips. He took this cue and pulled her in for a kiss. She almost pulled away on instinct but found herself trapped within the past, present, and future. It was the same Erik and her soul always called his name in her dreams.   
Erik's lips left hers and smiled, Christine smiled back, tears on her cheeks drying.

Then she giggled, Erik looked puzzled but soon he found out the reason for her outburst, "I'm so sorry Erik, it's just… your kiss has improved so much since last time…" Erik stiffened and coldly replied, "You too my dear." His arms left her waist, "You should leave I have to get dressed and meet Katharina. If you would like I will have a chat with the Vicomte. There is no way in hell he will suspect that I once was…" the word caught in his throat, "the dreaded Phantom. Perhaps he can be reasoned with."

Christine looked upset as his rejection of her, but thanked him politely for his gesture and left the room. As she left Katharina came in staring at Christine with jealousy, "Oh Enrique? Who was that? She looks pretty no?"

Erik smiled falsely, "Are you suggesting that I am having an affair with the Countess de Changy, Katharina? That is a fairly indecent suggestion. You shock me."

Katharina smiled with satisfaction, "Is she now? So the Vicomte de Changy is her husband." She smiled to herself, "I would have thought he would have had better taste in a wife." Erik clenched his knuckles and was awakened to Katharina's idiocy. How could he have been so blind? He quickly replaced a smile, and embraced her, "I would be careful if I were you, that Countess used to be quite an Opera Diva."

Katharina wrinkled her nose, "Well she could not have been that good or the management would not have let her go." She snuggled in Erik's shoulder. Erik's mind whirled with a plan, he had to make things right, or at least try. 

"Perhaps you're right my dear." He thoughts to himself, "If Christine came back here, you would be out sung so fast that it would knock you on your feet." He held her close but with new purpose.


	14. Another Duel

Chapter 14- Another Duel

Christine wiped any tears left on her face with her handkerchief and composed herself. Raoul waited for her towards the entrance of the Opera House. He looked impatient. Christine put on a smile and rushed to him. He gave her a polite embrace and urged her into their carriage. He held out his hand to help her in and she sat down and waited for him to slip in next to her.

The ride was usually silent but Raoul seemed compelled to speak to Christine,

"So I assume you paid our respects to that singer… what was his name?"

"Enrique, yes… he seemed flattered. It is hard to tell, you know how arrogant opera singers can be."

Raoul turned towards Christine, "I don't remember you ever being arrogant Christine. I think some people are just more prone to be arrogant once success hits." 

"Well I hardly got enough success to determine that, Raoul," Christine blurted out.

Raoul playfully poked Christine, "That's because I'm the luckiest guy in the world and you married me."

Christine brushed his hand away, "Don't try to be cute about it, Raoul. Every time I set foot in that opera house I regret everything I've given up for you. I just don't understand why I can't sing. It is so important to me Raoul…"

"You just can't stay away from that building, can you? It reminds you of him! Christine you are MY wife, you chose ME! If you wanted him, you should have picked him."

Christine stood up and screamed, "STOP THE CARRIAGE!" The horses whinnied and she lost her balance as the carriage halted to a stop. Raoul slid off his seat on top of her. She clawed her way out from underneath him and opened the carriage door. Stepping out of the carriage she felt free. She knew once Raoul got to his feet he would try to stop her, she did not know what might happen.

Her boots crushed the mixture of mud and snow on the ground, soiling the hems of her skirts. She could not take large footsteps but tried to run as fast as she could back towards the main road. She heard Raoul's footsteps behind her catching up quickly.

Christine broke into a run, "Leave me be Raoul I'm going back to Paris. I am finished with you! Finished!" Raoul caught up with her and grabbed her hands,

"I won't let you go Christine! I love you! Don't do this!" Christine wrestled in his grasp and when he would no let her go, she slapped his face with her gloved hand. Raoul flinched but would not let her go. This time she slapped him harder and he clutched his face letting her go. She took her opportunity and ran, twisting her ankle in the process she kept running.

Raoul had almost caught up with her again but suddenly someone jumped out of nowhere and Raoul stopped following. Christine stopped and turned around afraid of what she might see. Raoul was now standing, shocked by the impact, and stumbled backwards looking for his assailant.

Christine knew who it was as soon as she saw him. A figure in black pulled out what looked like a black ribbon and aimed it for Raoul. Christine anticipated what was about to happen and stepped in between Raoul and the attacker and blocked the noose with her hand. The Punjab lasso wrapped around her wrist and tightened.

Christine turned towards the caped man, "No! That's enough!" The lasso undid itself and the masked man now spoke, "My dear Vicomte, it seems you have stepped in between Christine and her music. I will ask you and I will not ask again… do not come near her again unless she wishes it."

Raoul held his sword up, "I knew you were not dead, I could feel it!" He put his sword away and glanced at Christine sadly. "You want to return to this monster… that's your decision. I've had enough." He trudged back to the carriage, got in, and rode away.

It was freezing outside and it had begun to snow. The flakes stuck in her hair like tiny crystals. She saw Erik breathing tuffs of white smoke from the cold; he lowered his hood and removed the mask. Christine felt so overwhelmed by regaining her freedom and having her Angel help her again. She uncertainly walked up to Erik until they were practically touching.

Erik moved his gloved hand to her hair and stroked the snow out of it. Christine closed her eyes, content with the sensation. She put her own gloved hands on his arms, entwining herself with his protection. After awhile of silence, they embraced and Erik whispered into her ear, "I'm so sorry Christine… I cannot believe I have become the very thing that I have despised most of my life. I promise I'm not the same person, I promise. Seeing how I hurt you… I wanted to hurt you like you'd hurt me. But I couldn't go through with it… I knew I had to bring you back to me, to music. You belong to Music."

Christine whispered back, "I belong to you." The snow fell harder and yet seemed to avoid them as they kissed, shielding them in a protective blanket that could never be broken.


	15. Visions of Family

Chapter 15- Visions of Family

A jolt awoke Christine and she opened her eyes, confused. It had all been a dream. She looked out the window and realized that she was nearly home. It couldn't be that easy could it? She slumped in her seat in an unladylike fashion and leaned against Raoul.

They finally arrived at the mansion and Christine stepped into the house. Danielle, the nanny, approached Christine. "Madame, the little one is sleeping. She is such an angel." Christine smiled and thanked her and bid her goodnight. Raoul had disappeared, most likely for a nightcap or a cigar. 

Christine walked up the stairs towards the nursery. She made sure not to make a lot of noise as she crept into the baby's room. She leaned over the crib and saw that her little baby was sleeping. Christine bent over and kissed her, "Bon soir, goodnight my little Rosalie. Let the Angel of Music sing in your dreams." The little bundle stirred to reveal a tuft of deep curly brown hair. Rosalie's pale cheeks glowed pink under a soft wool blanket.

Christine kept looking at the baby; observing her soothed the soul. Somehow gazing at the baby made her feel more complete without music in her life. She could not wait until she could teach Rosalie all she knew about singing and the violin. She had a feeling that little Rosalie would be very musically inclined.  
Raoul suddenly walked into the room, he came up behind her and embraced her from behind. Christine did not push him away; she needed someone's comfort right now. She felt so lost and confused; what did she want?

"She is so beautiful, Christine. I can't believe that we finally have a child, a part of you and me together. She looks just like you, ma chérie." Christine nodded biting her lip. She couldn't think about anything that she wanted now, she had a husband, and a child…


	16. Visitations

Chapter 16: Visitations

Raoul stepped out of his carriage and gave his hat, cloak, and walking stick to the attendant waiting from front of his building. The attendant looked flustered and spoke to Raoul as they walked inside Raoul's office building. He hurriedly followed Raoul listing his daily duties for the day,

"Monsieur, Dentoir's office called again and requested a conference with yourself. Also, there is a Monsieur David, here to see you. Some personal business?"

Raoul stopped and then regaining his composure, continued the trek to his office. "Alright, merci, and please tell the gentleman I will be with him in a moment." Raoul walked into his office and closing the door sat at his desk. He assumed that it was the opera singer but he could not imagine…

"Ah, he is probably seeking more funding for their upcoming productions. I cannot believe he, the star, would be roped into that. They might at least try to charm me with that beautiful Austrian soprano…"  
He heard a knock at the door and told his secretary to show Monsieur David in. Erik entered the room with faux confidence ignoring every impulse to pummel Raoul into the group. He observed the Vicomte. He seemed older and more worn. Raoul had grown a mustache and slight wrinkles were beginning to appear near his eyes.

Raoul was overwhelmed by Monsieur David's appearance. He was clad in a dark suit complete with a long winter cape, a walking stick, and fedora. He almost… Raoul shut his visions of his masked enemy out of his head and smiled politely at his guest. They shook hands with the politeness of two enemies and Erik sat down.

Raoul sat back down at his desk, "Monsieur David, how wonderful to meet you in person. I believe you met my wife, the Countess, on our last visit, we attend performances at regularly as we can and are very much impressed with your talents."

Erik smiled behind his mask of civility, thank God Raoul did not have a musician's hear or he would have certainly recognized the timbre and tone quality of Enrique's musical and speaking voice and found it to match that of the cursed Phantom. Thankfully after Erik's surgery the alterations to his nose had not changed the sound of his voice.

"Thank you, Monsieur le Vicomte, it was an honor to meet your wife at last. I remember hearing about her great accomplishments at the opera about a year or so ago, which is why I am here actually."  
Raoul lifted his eyebrow in curiousity, "I am not quite sure what you mean, Monsieur."

"Well Monsieur," Erik lied, "I am here representing our managers at the opera and they sought me out to try and negotiate Ms. Daae's return to the opera."  
Raoul tried to remain calm as he addressed Enrique, "Madame de Changy cannot sing for she has duties of the home which she wishes to fulfill instead." 

"Well I do know a child takes up some time, Monsieur, but her rehearsal schedule would be modulated to fit around her, as is always the case with Prima Donnas."  
"I was under the impression that the Opera was not in need of another Prima Donna, since the lovely Madamoiselle Kramer joined the company."

"Well due to some extraneous circumstances I have a feeling that Madamoiselle Kramer will be leaving soon." Erik felt the tension increase, his plan was working and now he had something to barter with.

Raoul faultered a bit, "I am not sure what you mean, Monsieur."

Erik stared straight into Raoul's eyes and maintained the airs of a self-absorbed opera tenor, "Well, certain rumors about Madamoiselle Kramer and a married aristocrat are bound to surface soon forcing her to seek work elsewhere. Or perhaps you have not heard the rumors?"

Raoul's fists clenched into the desk… how had anyone heard about him and Katharina. It was only one time that they were together and he knew it was a mistake but it was before he and Christine had been formally married. He could not imagine anyone knew, Katharina had sworn never to tell anyone.

A month after the incident in the cellar of the opera house, Christine had left the Opera House, and agreed to become engaged to Raoul. She had barely spoken to anyone since the event and Raoul was prepared to give her whatever time she needed to get over the effect of the tragedy. He was growing impatient, however. A man could not be expected to wait so long. He attempted to control his urges and be a good fiancé.

Christine asked him to go to the opera for her to collect her final belongings from her dressing room. Raoul would not have wanted her to go retrieve them anyways. There was an enormous amount of chatter when he returned; rumors and gossip had spread like wildfire around the chorus and staff of the opera house about what had happened in the basement of the opera. The most absurb being that the Phantom had raped Christine. The idea.

Raoul absent-mindedly burst into Christine's old dressing room and shockingly realized he had walked in on a woman dressing. The woman shrieked in fright. Embarrassed he muttered an apology and began to close the door. The woman slipped on her dressing gown, "Wait, Monsieur, please, you startled me is all." She spoke with an accent that he could not pick out but her French was still beautiful.

He could not help but admire this stranger, her hair and face revealed her foreign nature along with her exotic accent. She had a creamy rose-leaf complexion and shockingly bright blue eyes that reminded him of the ocean. Her hair fell to her waist and made her look like Aphrodite. Raoul attempted to control his urges but he could not help but be attracted to her.

She smiled, "I am Katharina the new soprano here. May I ask what you wanted?"  
"I…errr… forgive me, I am the Vicomte de Changy. It is a pleasure to meet you." He bowed as was the custom. Katharina seemed embarrassed. 

"Oh dear, a Vicomte…Verflucht noch mal.." she cussed under her breath. Raoul had no idea what she said but was entraced by her native tongue.  
"Please forgive me, I just had to retrieve some belongings of the old opera diva, but it seems that there is nothing else here."

Katharina looked confused, "Yes, she came a couple days ago to retrieve her things. She looked so young to be an opera diva and homely too. I must say, I am happy to be here." She eyed the Victome, "You French men are so… how does one say…attractif… if I might be saying so."

Raoul smiled, "Thank you, you too are attractif." What was he doing?  
She began to dress behind a screen and Raoul turned his back by default, "I should really get going now Madamoiselle…"

"Please, I am enjoying your company… I am wondering if it is custom for me to ask if you would like to get a drink with me. I am not knowing many people in the city and I must work on my French if I am to be fitting in."

Raoul was about to say that he could not, but decided there was no harm in helping a foreign lady learn about the language. Unfortunately his weakness for women got the better of him, and combined with alcohol lead to him going back to her apartment. She promised not to tell anyone but she later would find out that he was engaged.

Who knew she would tell Enrique. He had been under the impression that they were lovers, "Well Monsieur, I was under the impression that Katharina was your woman."

Erik clutched his walking stick with the knowledge that Raoul had tangled with two woman that he had cared for at one point. He had no intention of letting Raoul get away with this that easily,

"Now I know a man such as yourself would not believe the rumors that the opera house puts out to sell more tickets? Although it is difficult to discern which rumors are true and which are not, no?" Erik had Raoul squirming in his seat.

Raoul was not willing to risk his reputation even if this pompous suit was merely toying with him, "Alright, you may tell you manager that Christine will sing again." Raoul stood up and Enrique followed the gesture. Erik bowed curtly,

"I am glad of your decision; the opera will once again be filled with beautiful music."

Raoul nodded and Erik left the office triumphantly. Now how on Earth would Enrique get Katharina out? The Phantom would have an easier more guilt free idea, but Enrique would have to be clever and smooth. No more murders could occur in that opera house.


	17. When We Say Goodbye

Chapter 17- When We Say Goodbye

"Monsieur Enrique we had no idea of this information, are you sure? Oh André the scandal if it is true!"

Enrique sat once more in front of his dear simple-minded managers. It was much different than speaking to them through Madame Giry. He decided immediately that he would attempt to convince them to fire Katharina and hire Christine. He had to play their angle… money. That was the only thing that they cared about. 

"But Firmin, the scandal! We'll only sell MORE tickets, it's perfect, I fail to see the problem."

Firmin wiped his brow with a handkerchief, "No André, if word gets out about the scandal… the Vicomte will withdraw his support from the Opera and we will lose so much funding. No, Katharina must be replaced immediately. Oh dear, I do not believe we have employed an understudy and we have a packed house coming for Faust tomorrow evening. Good lord!"

Enrique folded his hands together sympathetically and once again put on the visage of a casual suggestion, "Perhaps… I could persuade Madame de Changy to come back…"

André leapt at this request, "No no, she would never agree there is too much baggage for her here. And the Vicomte would never consent."

"Ah but Monsieur, I think that the Vicomte would be delighted, especially if the circumstance were revealed to him… he could be made to understand…" 

"Absolutely not Monsieur David, I would never hear of it. Oh but if she would come back, what a crowd we would draw…" 

Erik continued to press his luck, "I saw Madame de Changy after my last performance. She came to pay respects and mentioned that she wished she could come back and sing. Perhaps the situation is not as hopeless as you think."  
André stroked his mustache as he often did when contemplating an idea that appealed to him, "Bon! Alors.. Enrique, you will be responsible for convincing the Countess to come back. Katharina will be fired directly after this meeting and… everything is settled." He glanced at Firmin for approval which was granted with a nod. Enrique stood up and ended the meeting with a firm handshake. Leaving the room he was smiling in success; there was still a bit of the Phantom in him yet.

Erik did not have a chance to say goodbye to Katharina but found a note she had left him in his dressing room. It read:

_My darling Enrique,  
I am so ashamed of what I have done. I am sure you must have heard by now, rumor spreads so fast in this city and I always meant to tell you but I did not think it had anything to do with us. I suppose I am a bit grateful to leave this city, I miss Vienna and Paris cannot compare to it. The opera at home will take me back of course, who else will bring packed houses there again?_

I wish I could have seen you once last time before I left but I had to pack my things and catch the first train I could. I don't think I could have faced you, you're so professional and would never commit anything like this. Would you ever sleep with an engaged woman, you have far too much class for that.

Eternally Yours,  
Katharina 

Erik crumpled up the letter; how little she knew of his former life. Only one person knew that much about it, and that person was about to become a huge part of his life again. He was had sent notice to Christine by means of a messenger that he would be arriving at the de Changy mansion before Raoul got home. Christine quickly replied that she would rather meet him somewhere a little bit more disecret. Erik had smiled at the notion; he alone knew of only one place that no one else knew about. He hoped she would not mind the trek. After all there were a lot of stairs down.


	18. Secret Passageways

Chapter 18: Secret Passageways

Christine urged the carriage faster in her mind as she could see the Opera House outside her window. She had taken extra care in her appearance this evening. Her heart ached with the idea of deceiving Raoul but she had to. There was so much he didn't know and much that Erik needed to know.

She hugged her cloak over her face and briskly walked towards the opera house. Suddenly, a hand wrapped around her and whisked her behind a wall. She would have screamed if she had not smelled Erik's familiar cologne. His arm wrapped seductively around her head and clamped over her mouth unnecessarily. She calmly lifted his hand off and turned to face him. 

"Your tricks are old to me Erik. You could try a more natural approach." She smiled at him and he returned with a boyish grin.

"Ah but you forget, Countess, I am not like everyone else. Despite appearances, this is just another mask Christine." Christine smiled sheepishly and took his arm. "Well let's go, you brought me down. Erik led her down the familiar pathway that somehow lacked its previous romantic air. Everything was as it seemed, dark and drafty. The floor was moist under their feet and they could hear the lake nearing.

The old boat was still there, the mob had burned it, but the boat was sturdy enough for the two of them to paddle to the opposite shore. Christine's eyes glistened at the sight of Erik's destroyed and abandoned world. Strangely he kept walking; unfamiliar, she felt compelled to rely on him as she had once before. He lead her through a dark tunnel which escaped her memory. The darkness enlarged her eyes until finally lit candles gleamed in the distance. A door appeared and they went through it into an undisturbed room. Christine gasped in recognition.

They had not destroyed this room, nor had Erik. Christine looked around   
nostalgically at her old room, the room where she had slept the first night. The beautiful mahogany bed stood in the corner gathering dust and the armoire, she suspected, still contained the dozens of dresses Erik had painstakingly picked out for her. She stroked the night table near her to observe the trail of dust on her fingertips. 

Erik seemed embarrassed, "I…I could not bring myself to destroy this room. Even after all we had been through, it did not seem… I could not do it." He shifted in place and looked down at his shoes; Christine once again saw the man she fell in love with all that time ago. Christine walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him in an embrace. He, no longer afraid, returned her gesture by wrapping his arms around her.

So much had happened between them, and Christine felt Erik sigh in content blowing hotly into her hair. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore how right their embrace felt. All of her feelings swirled to her surface and she silently begged them away. For so many years she had struggled not to care for Erik because of the many impossibilities… and Raoul. With nothing but Raoul blocking her heart she felt weak.

Erik endured his own struggle as he tried not to let his feelings take hold of him. In an agnizing blaze, he pushed her away, fighting for his freedom of her. When would it end? He stumbled backwards, "Oh Christine… I cannot… I cannot do this. Being here just… it just isn't fair to anyone. I really have things I must say but…" his fingers danced at his sides seeking a keyboard to relieve themselves, "What on earth is wrong with us?"

She smiled helplessly, "I don't know, I have tried so hard to get you out of my heart, you, your music, your soul. As much as I hated quitting music…" she felt her voice rising in frustration, "I was glad! I was glad because then I would not be forever reminded of you. You're always in my head, Erik! I cannot get you out, I cannot forget you! And it's killing me! I cannot be mentally faithful to my husband whom I love and want to love with all of my heart! I…" she lost her momentum. "Oh Erik, I just wish it wasn't so hard."

Christine sat on the bed and exhaled. Erik did not know what to say. Never, in all the time he had known her had she spoken with such a concise and emotional timbre. She did feel something for him, as he had always hoped, but life was never as easy to rely on love. This he knew with ever ounce of his being. He sat next to her and held her hand supportively.

"Christine, you know I've always loved you. But when you left me, it broke my  
heart and I tried to forget you but it isn't that simple. You left part of your soul with me and it's that part that has helped me live a normal life and forget…" he shuddered, "that other person whom you knew all that time ago. I will always love you, I cannot accept any other reality. But, for your sake I will resist that love, if you want me too." His eyes bore into her soul, this man whom she had dented with her childishness. The sadness was still there in those perfectly proportioned eyes. Erik was still there.

Impulsively, she took a chance and quickly kissed him, a quick jolt and then nothing. Erik leaned in a returned with a slower kiss that thrilled her. Christine felt a lump rise in her throat, the emotion overtook her quickly and she began to cry. Erik stood up as she weeped into her hands. He angrily ran his hands through his hair and then sat to comfort her,

"I'm so sorry Christine, please don't cry."

"No," she replied, "no, I'm crying because I love you too, but I can never leave Raoul but you don't know how much I… I want you right now. I just don't know what to do." 

"You have to make a choice."

She whimpered, "I can't…"

"Well then let me help you make your decision." With that he kissed her again and she did not resist. Her arms clung to her neck as if she was afraid to let him go. Soon they were on the bed caressing, kissing, and absorbing the passion of love they felt. Christine had never made love like this and was completely swept off her feet. Was this what she had been missing all this time? Was this what it would have been if she had not left his bedside the first time? She wept each time she thought of making love to him the first time and running off.

After they had made love, they sighed in contentment. Christine turned to Erik,

"It was not like that last time."

Erik smiled roguishly, "No my dear, I have had more experience since last time, to your satisfaction I hope." He teased her and grinned. Christine giggled and snuggled into his warm body. Erik seemed to drift off to sleep but Christine stayed awake. Even now, content as she was there was more, how could she tell him? How could she tell Erik he had a daughter?


	19. The Union

Chapter 19- The Union 

Christine sleepily blinked her eyes and her surroundings came into vision. She sat up quickly, and groped the air for a sheet. Her curls astray she looked around for Erik. There was a dent beside her in the bed where he was missing.

She sighed acknowledging her stupidity. She searched around for her clothes  
which were cast astray on every corner of the room. Her mind was crazy with thoughts. 

Suddenly Erik burst into the room, dressed in his best. Christine blushed at the sight of him and covered herself up with the bundle of clothes in her arms. Erik grinned and pretended to cover his eyes, "My eyes are covered Cherie, please continue." Christine giggled, turning around, she began to quickly dress. She became aware that Erik had lied. He stared at her beaming. She growled at his and playful ran up to him.

He half-heartedly protested as she pounded her fists against him, still half dressed, "Come on! You have nothing to hide from me now!" Christine stopped fooling around and grew serious. Erik's smile melted at her reaction, he looked at her with curiosity as she finished dressing. 

"Christine…"

"Erik… we need to talk." 

"I assumed, my Angel."

She flinched in desire at the name she once called him. He did not want to make this easy for her did he?

"Erik, you know how much I care about you and would not try to ever hurt you again… but I fear that I might so please do not interrupt."

Erik sat down on the bed and tried to conceal the tired look in his eyes. Nothing could any longer surprise him, so he thought. Christine sat next to him and held his hand nervously. Visions of her Rosalie flashed through her mind, her rosy cheeks and eyes that had recently begun to change yellow. She could not hide her any longer.

"Erik… that night we stayed together… I never forgot it all that time. Something very special happened that night. After I could not face it Erik, but marrying Raoul… making love to him, you were always there. I have a child Erik."

With those words he escaped her grasp and stood up anxiously, "Oh Christine, you cannot stay with me. Your child, my mother abandoned me when I was young and I forbid you to leave your own… even if… even if I love you."  
Christine stood up and put her hand on his shoulder, "Erik… I had a baby with you. It's yours."

Erik turned with a look she had never seen before. Suddenly the fire came back into his yellow eyes and he grabbed her wrists, "Don't lie! Don't lie! I can't… you cannot justify this with lies. I will not let you destroy a child… I cannot…" Suddenly he stopped, "My… mine?" 

Christine blinked away tears, and nodded. Erik threw up his hands and wrapped his hands around his head in shock. He paced the room moving his hands again on his invisible keyboard. He turned to face Christine,

"Is it… a he or a girl?" Christine smiled and squeezed his hand. "A she, Erik," she whispered into his ear, "Our little Rosalie, with my hair, and your eyes."

She saw the corners of his mouth curve in content. Christine held him close to her and felt him go rigid. He spoke in her ear, "Oh Christine, she isn't… her face… oh God… not…" Christine looked him in the eyes pulling away for an instant, "No Erik, no, she's… beautiful." He allowed himself to smile and pulled her in for another close embrace. They clung to each other ignoring the future and remembering the past when they created life from love.


	20. Return to Heaven

Chapter 20: Return to Heaven

Christine broke their embrace and faced reality for the moment. Erik still had tears in his eyes from knowing they had a child together. Their future remained a mystery. Erik broke the silence with the obvious question,

"What should we do now Christine? I know this cannot be easy for you but there are things that must be decided. I want little Rosalie to be in my life, but you need to tell your husband the truth and decide which man will become your husband for life."

Christine looked at him scared. She clung to him again and started sobbing, "Oh Erik I want to choose you, I want to, but I'm not sure what the right course is. To divorce a Count… Erik could I ever sing again… where would we live…" she could not stop going on about the random thoughts of her brain. Erik listened patiently until she finished.

Erik let her go for a minute and held her hands in his hands, "Christine, I will not tell you that you broke my heart the first time because you did. I thought that I could not live without you, I discovered I can." Isabelle flashed through his mind to his surprise but she vanished again like she had that day on the street. Erik kept talking, "If you will not leave Raoul that does not concern me, what concerns me is Rosalie now. I think she deserves to know her true father and I think your husband deserves that information as well." Christine's eyes widened at this idea. 

"Erik, do you know what Raoul will do to both of us if he found out, to your career. Erik it is too much to think about I will not risk that, not even for my feelings. It can't be done." She stood up and paced around the room shaking from emotional confusion. "Oh Erik, I do want you, I do, I just, Raoul must never know about you, your music must continue. I will not ruin your life, again." Erik stood up and held her hands to calm her.

"Christine, we will find some way to make things right. I think I have an idea." They moved to another location and ate some biscuits. Christine put her hand on Erik's knee as he began to brainstorm.

"There cannot be a scandal, Christine. If we go off together, there will not be one with the Opera Ghost, there will be one with Enrique and the Countess. No one will benefit from that, especially not Rosalie. It is not possible that I, as Enrique could be Rosalie, so there is no way save the identity if we come to Raoul and ask to stay together. The only way, would be to offer a settlement of some kind. Christine, that might be you."

Christine finished his thoughts, "I'll do it, I'll stay with Raoul. It is the only way he'll ever concede to let you see Rosalie and keep your secret. But what if he doesn't let me sing?"

Erik sighed, "He might not Christine, and I understand if you don't want to give that up." He tried not to let his upset show. Erik had to play the strong man in this instance; Christine had the look of that innocent little chorus girl. Noticeably, she appeared torn at heart between two equally beautiful outcomes.

She walked up to Erik and leaned her head against his chest and sighed. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Their breathing synchronized and Erik knew she had made her decision. Christine held back tears as she confirmed his fears,

"Why does this have to be so hard? All I want is you Erik…you and our daughter… oh God, our daughter. I have to tell Raoul… I have to tell him…"  
Erik thought a minute, "Not necessarily, Christine. I have an idea."  
Christine lifted her head from his chest and quizzically stared at him, "Erik what do you mean?"

"Christine, I want you to sing more than anything but I also want to spend time with Rosalie but Raoul… Christine I'll give her lessons."

"Erik what are you talking about?"

"Raoul will let you sing again, all you need do is plea, use your feminine wiles to get him to agree to let you sing. Then, you will tell your charming husband that Enrique is a skilled pedagogic musician. He will question this qualification but we will produce evidence that will make him insistent upon my services. Rosalie will know me as her voice teacher, and I will know her in the only way I am fit to know anyone—through music." 

Christine stood silent for a minute and then spoke quietly, "Erik I cannot do that for you. You deserve to be…"

"What about what you deserve? Christine this is the only solution for now."   
She kissed his lips and ran her fingers through his hair, "If this is what you want, Erik. I'll do it for you, for us, and Rosalie."

He sighed, "It's time to return to the world, Christine."

"Yes," she held his hand, "Back to the cruel Heaven above the comfort of your Hell."


	21. Music Lessons

Chapter 21- Music Lessons

Rosalie sat on the windowsill of her home in the country, gazing out the window. Her fingertips drummed anxiously on the wood waiting for her teacher. Now almost eight years old she looked forward to her lessons with her godfather, the great Enrique. Her mother had met him while singing with the opera house after taking a leave of absence to have her.

She heard her stout governess, Olivia, chasing after her little sister Josette. Poor Olivia searched all over the house and Rosalie did not have the heart to confess her little sister's hiding place. Josette could be a handful, she was only four but when Christine had taken off again to have her, she cried so much. Rosalie loved Josette but never seemd to be able to identify with her.

Again she gazed out the window waiting for her music teacher; she loved lessons. Even at eight her passion for music exceeded that of a grown adult. She was a serious girl in general, unlike most little girls her age she showed little interest in parties, boys, or even dolls and fancy dresses. Raoul tried to pamper her but could not seem to connect with his child. 

She looked very much like Christine but it was evident that she would be far more handsome. Her hair shared the same curly texture but was darker and really reflected her skin tone which was also whiter than her mother's. Unlike her rosier complected sister, she did not quite have the blush in her cheek. Her sister shared the obviously de Changy blond haired, blue eyed, strain.

Josette was daddy's little girl and always knew she could get whatever she wanted from him as long as she put on a cute little smile. Rosalie had never been very close to Raoul; she had always been closer to Christine. They shared the passion of music that Raoul did not seem to understand. Josette did not have the musical gifts that Rosalie possessed, despite an obvious flair for the dramatic.

She saw Enrique walking up the stone path to the house; his looks had not changed much over the years. Rosalie sprung up from the window seat and anxiously waited for him to come into the music room. She ran over to the beautiful chestnut grand and began to play the keys with such grace. Her eyes closed as she became enveloped in the music. She barely heard Enrique quietly step into the room.

She heard his voice and stopped playing. He greeted her with an adorable smile and gave him a huge hug. A usual Enrique tried to conceal his happiness when he held his little girl in his arms. Over the last couple years he had really gotten to know and love her. Masked as Rosalie's godfather and music teacher, he was still able to show her affection as a paternal figure.

Josette appeared in the corner of the room looking mischievous with an impish grin. Enrique offered her a smile and she giggled and disappeared. Rosalie sat behind the piano anxious for her lesson to begin. Erik smiled at his daughter's eagerness; she could be so subtly stubborn. She danced her fingertips on the ivory keys with long, thin fingers.

"All right ma petite, calm down. We shall begin, but I thought we might do a little bit of vocal training today, what do you think about that?"

Rosalie smiled excitedly, "Oh yes, yes, but I thought we couldn't start voice training until I was older."

"True ma petite, but I thought we might try a few simple exercises, to see how your voice is. Unless you would rather focus on the piano today…"

"No, no! Please, I want to sing. Please Maestro."

Erik knew this day would come and could not wait to hear how his daughter would sound. Would she be as beautiful as Christine or was her musical talent limited to her piano skills? He had nourished her talent thus far and she could play as well as an adult music student.

"Alright ma petite; stand up please." Erik replaced his position at the piano and Rosalie stood nervously at the edge of the piano her hands clasped together. Erik began to play some scales and arpeggios and nodded for Rosalie to begin singing. She started out timid but then her voice grew more confidant and beautiful.

Erik closed his eyes and heard a heterogynous combination of his voice and Christine's voice. For a couple minutes, his heart filled with the music and his days of singing Christine and teaching her. He opened his eyes and smiled at his Rosalie singing with the crystal purity of a child.   
Rosalie smiled as she sang, realizing the notes rang throughout the room. Enrique returned the emotion and then began to play the accompaniment to a song they both knew very well. Rosalie fumbled some of the words out of nervousness and although she still had much training to undergo, the resemblance was uncanny to her mother. 

"You were once my one companion, you were all that mattered. You were once a friend and father, then my world was shattered. Wishing you were somehow here again." Erik's eyes filled with tears which were quickly discarded as he saw Christine tip her head around the corner. He caught her eye and gave her a small grin. Christine folded her arms across her chest and listened to Rosalie sing.

Rosalie beamed her mother and continued to sing. Josette walked into the room and clung to her mother's leg. They all listened as the beautiful music filled the house. Enrique began to sing as well and not soon after Christine joined in. All three voices resonated throughout the music room and brought them all closer together. Christine and Erik spent these past years silently gazing at each other, singing together every night arias of love and longing, and spending time together behind Raoul's back.

Raoul had now returned from work and found his way to the music room where the three angels had been rejoicing in song. He felt very out of place among the music. He had studied piano as a child at the request of his mother but never really enjoyed it. He stood outside the music room watching his girls and Enrique. Somewhere in his stomach he felt tension and distrust when he looked at Enrique. Aside from the awkward confrontation in his office, there was something about him, he blamed on it on minor jealousy and ignored his feelings.

The song ended and Christine and Enrique looked away from each other. Enrique focused his attention on Rosalie.

"Brava ma petite mademoiselle, I knew your voice would be lovely, just like your Mamma's." Christine blushed and gave her daughter an encouraging hug. Rosalie looked very pleased with herself.

"Maestro, it did not feel very difficult. I loved singing with you. And you too Mamma." Raoul walked over to his eldest daughter and put his hand on her shoulder. 

"It sounded beautiful, Rosie. Really, Enrique," he gestured to Erik, "I don't know how you do it, but you've really given my daughter a beautiful instrument."

Erik paused and then began to speak, "It is a privilege to teach Madame De Chagny's daughter. And truly, I have done little, all the talent is hers, just like Christine's. Any teacher would consider themselves lucky with these ladies." Rosalie giggled at being called a lady and Raoul felt his stomach tighten. Bringing up Christine's teacher left him cold. He shuddered every time he thought of that monster.

Realizing the reaction he had brought upon Raoul, Erik smirked to himself and enjoyed watching his girls share in his music. He glanced at little Josette and offered her a wink. She hid behind Christine and peeked out watching him. As young as she was, Josette never could understand the bond between Enrique, Christine, and Rosalie. She did not like it at all, she and Pappa were always left out. She gazed at Enrique innocently wondering why she did not like him.


	22. Like Mother Like Daughter

Chapter 22- Like Mother Like Daughter

Rosalie had not been to the Opera House before in her life. Tonight was truly special for her. As she walked sandwiched between her mother and father Christine let her hand go and departed to the stage door. Raoul led Rosalie to the infamous de Chagny box. Heads turned as the high profile family entered the Opera House.

Rosalie sat as properly as she could in her dainty little dress. She ached to lean over the railing and observe all the different people, but proper young ladies did no such thing. As a child, she was fortunate enough to be present at the opera. Society buzzed with the appearance of the young countess. Rosalie certainly appeared older than her 8 years in her cream colored frock which had been fringed with fine French lace and satin ribbons. Her hair had been coiffed into a young looking bun.

Raoul allowed Rosalie to sit on his lap when the music of the Overture began. The opera tonight was a special anniversary rendition of Faust. Rosalie had dreamt of seeing her mother and Maestro in this opera. For some reason it held special interest for them. Rosalie had often noticed moments like this between these two important people in her life but being only a child, could not understand nor explain it.

Seeing her mother sing on stage thrilled Rosalie more than any other experience in her life. The life of an opera singer continued to be more enthralling than any fairytale a child would yearn to be a part of. Although the story of Faust contained, perhaps, darker moments that many children would dislike, Rosalie drowned herself in the music. When her Maestro took the stage Rosalie held her breath in awe. She had heard him sing with her but never with such grandeur and vibrancy. His voice affected her deeply, like a soothing music box.

When Christine and Enrique sang together the entire audience could not breathe from the intensity. Their voices molded together to form a perfectly resonant expression of sound that no one could describe with words. You would have to have been there to understand. Many gossiped about a secret love shared by the two but that rumor never left the opera world. Anyone else would attribute their unbelievable stage chemistry to sheer talent.

Raoul disliked seeing them perform, something in his stomach twisted around tightly suffocating him. He knew that Rosalie adored Enrique and that further enraged him. Were it not for his love for Christine and Enrique's knowledge of Raoul's past, the wealthy Count would not stand for any of it. He sat in his seat watching his wife sing to another man with more passion than she ever spoke to her husband, him. Raoul always felt distance with his wife, a barrier that only music could break was left standing between them. 

When the curtain fell on the stage, the two stars exited past the chorus and ballet and retreated to their adjoining dressing rooms. Christine sat at her bureau unpinning her curly hair, now beginning to show some age with the specks of gray that now streaked it. Wearing her dressing gown, she then wiped off her makeup. She saw the door to Enrique's room open slowly and Erik's head popped through. Age had not affected him deeply but a few lines had deepened over the years and long forgotten smiles lines revealed his happiness over the years.

Erik began to knead Christine's shoulders tenderly as she finished removing her makeup. His orange tinted lips indicated that he had not begun the de-characterizing process yet. Christine closed her eyes although trying not to let Erik distract her. Erik continued to seduce her, and leaned over kissing her neck whispering teasing remarks into her ear. Every performance it was the same, he tried this often and Christine had only consented once or twice. However afterwards, the regret became so unbearable that she would fall asleep with tears straining her pillow. She moved away and walked behind her changing screen.

"Enrique please, not tonight, my daughter and husband will be here soon."  
Erik flinched at the pseudonym she had used instead of his true name, "Enrique will return to his dressing room then, ma Cherie." He then realized what she had said, "Rosalie is here?"

Christine nodded. Erik sat down on her chair, "When will you tell your husband the truth, Christine?" Christine stepped out from behind the screen avoiding the question,

"Well certainly not tonight." Erik stood up so that Christine could fix her hair. He would not let her avoid this topic so easily.

"Christine it has been 7 years, you cannot deny me anymore. She is my child, I want to be with her; I want her to know who I am. I am her father." His voice rose as he became upset. Christine hushed him but it did no good, "No! I thought it was for the best but it is not. She isn't happy Christine; I can see it and sense it. I know my daughter, she is like me. She needs me."

Christine sighed, "Erik… Enrique, I cannot do that to Raoul. And if you tell him, I will never forgive you."  
Erik slumped in defeat and mumbled as he left the dressing room, "I'll be ready soon, at least let me see her." The door closed quietly and Christine finished getting ready. 

Outside the dressing rooms a well-dressed Count had intended on knocking on his wife's door and presenting her with long stem roses. He had not intended upon eaves-dropping on a conversation that would crush his soul to bits. He had not expected to glance at his young daughter who was speaking to the dancers a few yards and feel like he had lost a battle he had thought he had won.


	23. Paternal Switch

Chapter 23- Paternal Switch

Erik had removed his makeup and sat at his dressing table in his black satin robe. Christine had made the final gesture to shut him out of her life. He could not handle her inability to make a decision about her life, or Rosalie's life. Rosalie deserved to know where she came from but he did not want to risk losing her. The decision weighed on his heart hard and gave him pangs of loneliness from time to time.

There was a knock at his door and he opened it. His little eight year old daughter rushed into his arms and gave him a huge hug. It was all he could do to not cry from emotion. Her little arms wrapped tight around his neck, and he wished more than ever that he could tell her that he was her true father. Rosalie whispered softly into his ear,

"Maestro, I heard what you said to Mama."

Erik paled but maintained a strong persona to protect Christine, "What's that ma cherie?" 

Rosalie smiled coyly, "I heard when you called me your daughter."

Erik looked at Rosalie quizzically but she did not look upset, rather like a piece of her life had just come into the correct space. Erik could not deny his daughter anymore and hugged her for the first time, not as her Maestro, but as her father. Suddenly Raoul came barging into Erik's dressing room frightening Rosalie.

"Sir, you will step outside!" Christine trailed him clutching her dressing gown and clearing her makeup with tears. 

"Raoul! Raoul, stop!"

Erik swiftly put little Rosalie down and commanded her for the first time as her  
father, "Ma petite, go outside and close the door. Go explore for awhile, hurry now." Rosalie quivered for a second and then escaped the ugly brawl.

With her absence, Raoul grabbed Erik's throat and pressed him against the wall. For Christine's sake, Erik tolerated the Vicomte's pathetic attempts at violence. Raoul gripped his throat and spat words in his face,

"You… you take everyone in this world I love and taint them with your blackness. I didn't see through this charming mask though." Raoul poked Erik's face with his finger, sending a familiar fury through Erik's soul. He controlled him self for a little while longer. Raoul continued his bitter recount,

"Well then, monster turns angel once again, Monsieur. I knew there was something about you that I despised from the moment I met you. And I have not even begun to discuss you fathering MY child!" He punched Erik in the face and attempted to rip off, what he thought, was a mask.

Erik retaliated by pinning the Vicomte to the wall in similar fashion this time keeping Raoul's face to the wall, "You will keep your distance sir. And don't bother trying to remove my mask. You'll find it is a permanent one, amazing what doctor's today can do." Raoul's eyebrows rose in surprise but he kept quiet for a moment. Erik continued, "I trust you have not forgotten what I am capable of. Despite my…fairy-like appearance, similar to your own," Erik fought back a laugh here, "I have the same instincts in me, and I beg of you not bring them out of me, for Christine's sake." He turned towards her, and she stood frozen in anticipation.

"Now, Vicomte, I trust that you and I can have a civilized conversation about this. We have all grown up some these past years and hopefully gained more mature wisdom." At this Erik released Raoul and prayed this story would end differently from the other one.


	24. Conclusions Drawn

Chapter 24: Conclusions Undrawn

The tension in the air stank up the tiny dressing room, so it had been conceded to move the action to the de Chagny mansion outside of the city. A carriage with beautiful wood upon it bearing the de Chagny crest pulled up in front of the Opera Garnier carrying four tense passengers. No seating arrangement seemed safe enough to prevent awkward encounter.

Unfortunately, no time could have been taken to arrange the perfect seating for the long journey. Christine instinctively grabbed Rosalie and pulled her next inside the carriage next to her. Rosalie hid her fear through her mother's warm grip on her hand. This left Raoul and Erik on the other side facing the two women. Rosalie seemed to sense the tension of the situation, seeing her old and new fathers trying to maintain their dignity and control.

Erik sat across from Christine looking out the window, Raoul sat near the door looking across at Rosalie. She gazed back at him with mixed emotion and slight fear. He tried to ease her emotions by smiling but any bond they might have had, had been broken. Rosalie leaned against her mother and caught Erik's eye. He winked at her and she smiled briefly.

Erik's hands gripped his knees trying to channel the anger and frustration he felt. All these years and this constant triangle had still found no solution. The journey to the Vicomte's abode gave Erik time with his thoughts and memories. Visions of Christine when she had been a naïve chorus dancer danced through his mind, her face when she had seen his grotesque face for the first time, and then the time when they had made passionate love in his lair. He always tried to not think about that time; it made him feel vulnerable.

Suddenly his thoughts turned back to before he had been granted an attractive face and an enviable career. His thoughts traveled to thoughts of Isabelle. Erik delved into his memory, he had not thought of her in such a long time. Her deep emerald eyes pierced his mind and the smell of her red hair made him close his eyes. The look on her face when she had left him on the street that day still haunted his dreams. He wondered what had become of her all these years.

Raoul's thoughts were not so unlike Erik's. He thought of Christine as a young girl and when he had rescued her scarf in the ocean that day. The sound of her father's violin struck his heart. He saw Christine singing that aria on the stage when he had come to the opera. He saw the birth of Rosalie and how happy he had been. He looked at Erik's child now and felt his one hope of being happy crushed. He thought about Josette at home and wondered if she too was Erik's.

He broke the silence with this crucial question, "Not to be rude and break the comfort of the ride but Christine, is Josette the spawn of this monster too?"  
Christine gave him a look that shut him up and prevented Erik from knocking his block off but she answered Raoul's question in a tone that was queerly tranquil,

"Josette is yours and mine, Raoul. Never doubt otherwise."

Erik almost smiled but kept any emotion to himself. Rosalie lie on Christine's lap and soon fell asleep. Christine felt relieved; Rosalie did not need to be a part of this crazy argument. She looked out the window and saw the long road that ended at her home. The mansion looked unfriendly as the carriage drove up. At last the carriage stopped and Christine carried Rosalie out. Erik and Raoul stepped out and sat in the drawing room waiting for Christine to put Rosalie to bed.

Raoul stood up and paced the room anxiously, stopping only to pour himself a brandy. He made the offer as a well brought up man would, disregarding his dislike of his guest, "Sir, would you care for a drink?"

Erik looked at his host narrowing his eyebrows and coolly but politely declined a drink. Raoul drank his first glass down with ease and then poured himself another to carrying around with him while he walked around the room. Erik grew irritated at the Vicomte's need to move about but made no threatening remarks.  
At last Christine appeared and closed the drawing room doors behind her. She looked worried but had a resolved look on her face. Tonight was the night; everything would be put in proper order. The men in the room stood up in her presence, rather Erik stood and Raoul stopped pacing.

Christine gestured for both men to sit next down. They all took their seats and began a long a tiring dialogue about the last seven or eight years. The men sipped their drinks concealing their large gulps when they thought no one was looking. Christine braved them both by speaking,

"I love both of you and I don't want anyone to feel hurt. I don't know how to resolve the mess I've made."

Raoul gruffly answered, "Well, my dear, you could start by making up your mind which of us you are in love with and whose children you'd like to have from no on." 

Christine flinched at his harsh words, "Please Raoul, you have no idea how hard this is on me…"

Raoul stood in anger, "Hard on YOU? Your life has not been continuously ruined by one human being. I used to think it was him," he yelled pointing at Erik, "but now I'm wondering if you aren't the cause. I fall in love with you from the moment I lay eyes on you. Think about you every day, wishing I could hear your voice again. And then… I see you. But—you're already in his grasp. He clawed his way into your heart and since then I haven't had a moment's piece! He steals my wife's heart and then… my firstborn… so I thought… turns out to be his. Everyone I love is somehow tainted by this ghost. That's why I wanted to make sure that Josette was mine. Who knows, it could all be some plan. Have his children, raised by me, and completely crush me."

Christine stood up and slapped Raoul's face, "Don't you dare speak to me that way! I am sorry I lied to you, but I only lied because I knew what you would say and I knew you would try to uncover Erik. And I could not let that happen!"  
"I'll be you couldn't," Raoul sneered speaking more frankly as a result of his second brandy, "Couldn't let the love of your life, a MURDERER, live. Where is the justice in that!" His sarcasm ripped through her heart and she tried to conceal the tears.

Erik stood up not standing for this anymore, "Sir, you will lower your voice."  
Raoul laughed, "Sir? Don't bloody sir ME! I should ask you to leave my house for making love with my wife."

Erik turned away at this remark and paced the room, "Monsieur le Vicomte, all I ask if for my child."

Christine spun around, "Rosalie is my child too, Erik."

"Well, then we will figure out a way for me to see her. Custody."  
Raoul walked towards him, "You know damn well Rosalie is not the issue here. Christine is the issue, my wife is the issue."

"You will speak to me, Raoul, I am right here." Christine sat down on the couch angrily.

Erik had to agree, "For once dear Vicomte I agree. I agree with you."

"Erik, how dare you, both of you, I am not your prize, sirs."

Raoul sat down next to her and held her hand hopefully, "Christine you must choose which of us to love. You cannot have both and I will not be embarrassed by you committing adultery anymore under my nose. If you do not love me…" he turned away letting go of her hand, shaking in upset, "Oh Christine…"

Christine looked desparately from Raoul to Erik, she stood up away from Raoul and walked towards Erik. He looked nervous but hopeful as she got closer to him. Stopping inches away from Erik, she looked into his eyes. Turning towards Raoul she spoke, "There is only one way for me to decide, look away, love." Wrapping her arms around Erik's neck she kissed him with an urgency that he had never known before. When they parted he knew the answer, how could he have thought otherwise?

Christine looked quizzically into his eyes, "Oh Erik… I never would have thought…" 

"It's gone, angel. The passion is gone." Christine put her hands to her mouth in shock. Raoul stood up and Christine kissed him in the same manor. The look on her face said it all to Erik. Raoul had never been the passionate choice but that was the only element alive between her and Erik. Now that it was gone, she knew who to be with.

Christine looked at Raoul, "Love… look at me. You are my husband and you are the one I will spend my life with, give you more children, grow old with. That is, if you will forgive me for hurting you all of these year?"  
Raoul hugged her tight and observed Erik from the other side with satisfaction. Erik began to walk towards until he felt something clamp onto his leg. He looked down and saw Rosalie hugging him with such intensity; she was crying his name,

"Please Maestro, don't leave me, don't leave me, I want to go with you please!"  
Christine rushed into this scene and spoke firmly to Rosalie,

"Rosalie, go upstairs now!"

"No, I want to go with him. He's my father and you lied to me!"

Erik looked pleadingly at Christine and picked up his daughter; she clung to his neck like a monkey. Erik spoke softly, "Christine, I can take her with me for the night and you can come pick her up in the morning." Christine began to say something but then nodded in defeat.

Erik smiled at Rosalie and walked towards the door. He put her on the floor, helping her with her cloak and after fastening his own he led her out the door.


	25. Escaped

Chapter 25: Escaped

Holding Rosalie's hand, Erik led her through the dark cool night. He had not though this through. They had no carriage, no way of going back to Paris. Two wandering figures drifting through the night, refuges in a cold world were hooded by their cloaks.

Rosalie made no cry of protest or spoke a word. She held Erik's hand trustingly and walked with him. She seemed to enjoy the night as much as her father, the loving cloak which shielded him for so many years. Finally she spoke softly,

"Papa… may I call you that?"

Erik felt his cheeks rise in amusement, "Of course, ma Cherie, if you wish. May I still call you Rosalie?" 

Rosalie scrunched her face up, "When have you ever called me that?"

Erik laughed, "Ah of course, 'ma petite' this is what I say."

Rosalie giggled, "What will you do when I grow up and am no longer petite."

"I do not know ma petite I will know when you grow up."

"Papa, did you name me Rosalie?"

"No, your mother did, and perhaps Raoul as well."

Rosalie grew a silent, "What would you have named me, my father?"

Erik tried to ignore the question for as long as possible, "Well even if your mother and I were married, we would have picked it out together so, I'm not sure."

Rosalie stopped and dropped Erik's hand, "Well you must have had some name you liked, Papa."

Erik saw a stone bench along side of the road, picking Rosalie up; he lifted her towards the bench, and sat her on his lap. She looked up at him seeking all that her life had never known before.

"Ma Cherie, I may have suggested a name like…" he almost shrunk from the name,

"Madeleine after your grandmother."

She bounced in excitement, "Oh, I do like that name."

Erik smiled, "It's a bit late to change your name now, ma Rose."

"Oh but I will, I like Madeleine… perhaps as a stage name someday. Mama doesn't use a stage name but I will when I become a great musician."

Rosalie yawned and Erik picked her up and she hugged him sleepily. Erik knew they had a long way still to go. He walked carrying his light daughter in his arms, for a couple hours. He grew tired but continued on, it had been awhile since he had had to employ his survival skills and he relished his walking in the night. The night had always been his alibi for so many years.

He suddenly spotted a carriage driving up the road. It had hung lanterns over the edge and two black horses clip-clopped towards the father and daughter. Erik made a decision to try and hitch a ride with them. He hoped that the people inside would be kind and in exchange for some money take them back into Paris.

The carriage seemed to spot them and the horses slowed up. Erik held his daughter close and walked cautiously towards the carriage door. The windows were tinted and it was dark outside so he couldn't see who the inhabitants were. He heard a woman's voice laugh and the door swung open. Erik's jaw dropped when he saw a well dressed woman he knew with those green eyes.

Isabelle… only she had aged some and no longer was that naïve child he once knew. She was alone in this carriage and her wild hair was pinned up elegantly on her head. Her throat sparkled with gemstones larger than coins. She wore a fur trimmed clock and upon recognizing Erik laughed.

"I always knew I'd see your father again, Monsieur le Fantome. Somehow I always knew that we would meet again. Climb on in."

Erik lifted his daughter in and then closed the door of the carriage. The horses moved again and they began to travel. Isabelle looked from sleeping Rosalie back to Erik's handsome but aging face. She giggled girlishly and Erik glared and shh-ed her.

"Please, don't wake her."

"Well Erik, kidnapping young Countesses now are we," she grinned, "I think since  
I've helped you, that some of the random money should be mine."  
Erik's eyes narrowed, "I am not kidnapping her and how do you know she is a Countess…"

"…la petite Countess de Chagny? Haha, oh Erik, you continue to amuse me. Well, first off, I am very familiar with high society these days. More than I used to be, even," she added winking and making Erik's cheek flush slightly, "Also, I know you Erik. You of all people would want to take Raoul de Chagny's daughter."

Through gritted teeth Erik whispered, "Not that it is your affair but Rosalie is my daughter."

Before she was about to make a sarcastic comment, Isabelle stared at the severity on Erik's face. She looked incredulously from Rosalie's face to  
Erik's. It was hard to tell after the surgery Erik had had to distinguish between his true looks but there were similarities Isabelle noticed. Erik smirked at Isabelle's defeat and added, "She is my child, mine…" he paused dramatically, "and Christine's." 

Isabelle flinched at the name and grew somber, "She looks like you."

Erik felt his anger quickly drain and he smiled softly at her, "No, it's all her mother. She's beautiful." He lovingly stroked his daughter's hair as she stirred.

Isabelle had never seen him like this. He was so grown up and paternal. Her heart melted all over again for him. The years had been hard and even harder since she had left him on the street that day. Not a day went by without her thinking about him. She had followed a little of what had happened to Erik and knew that he was an opera star now. She had even been so a couple of his performances. Then he had seemed as arrogant as she feared he might become.

Now he seemed changed again and she wondered how long she could avoid catching him up on her life. So much had happened, her life never ceased to be boring. Thus far the carriage ride was silent but Erik broke it. 

"You look so grown up, Belle." Isabelle smiled, "You haven't called me that since… the dark ages. But thanks. You do too."

Erik laughed, "Grown up? Old you mean."

"No, just, seeing you with your daughter… you've really changed."

Erik nodded and sighed, "I'm still learning; it has been difficult at times. I used to just be her voice teacher. So Isabelle, you seem to be doing well."

Isabelle closed her eyes and sighed, "Mon Dieu, two whole minutes. I wondered when you would ask."

Erik grew impatient, "Well…?"

"Alright, alright. Well I have made a bit of an alteration in profession as you may have noticed. That day I walked away from you… I decided to try and change my life. It did not work unfortunately. There is little work for a girl with my credentials. Well something did happen. I met someone."

Erik felt cold and did not understand why. They were only old friends after all. He tried to sound supportive, "Oh? You're married."  
Isabelle grinned, "No anymore but I was for a bit, yes. He was a noble. Nice man… a lord, handsome, doted on me until…" she looked out of the window of the carriage as if the memory was too much to bear, "until he died."

"How did he die, Belle?"

"He…" Isabelle tried not to get emotional; after all she had not been passionately in love with Bernard. She laughed at the thought of meeting him for the first time. He had been shy and always treated her like a lady. His stupid grin remained with her every day. He had left his entire estate to her and now because of him she would never need anything again. She would always been safe.

She wiped tears with her lace handkerchief, "He fell off his horse at our estate, and broke his neck…" she turned away from Erik.

He stood up and sat next to her, but she protested quietly, "No… Erik… please I'm fine…"

Erik let her cry for a minute, realizing how much he wanted to comfort her. Even as this powerful woman she was still young and beautiful. She turned back towards him and looked at him weakly, "Oh Erik, I didn't love him the way a wife should. I tried to be happy and make him happy… I tried. He loved me so much and when he died… oh Erik I'm a wicked person I felt…" 

"…relieved?" Erik finished her sentence without hesitation. Isabelle nodded and allowed Erik to hold her, "It's ok, and you cared for him even if you did not love him. You cannot always have love in your life. Sometimes caring and understanding are enough and I am sure you gave him both. He had to feel like the luckiest man in the world."

Isabelle looked at him and weakly smiled, "Only because he didn't know I was already in love with someone."


	26. Destiny

Chapter 26- Destiny 

Even as he told his daughter, omitting certain unnecessary gory details of course, one of the most terrible hours her face remained blank. The information seemed to disappear within her exterior and denied her emotion. Erik felt as though he spoke to a mature young woman. When he finished his story, he waited for some form of response but received none. Rosalie did not look at him for awhile and then began to speak with the vaguest sense of wisdom in her voice.

"Papa, show me what you looked like before, show me on your face."

Erik could not look at his daughter. Her honestly of what she found curious he found admirable but he daren't give her nightmares. She persisted. 

"Please Papa, I want to know the real you."

"This is the real me!" Erik spoke with more fire in his voice than he meant to but he did not scare his daughter, "Don't you see? The whole time, no one could see me the way I was and that is why I did this, Rosalie? The whole world saw me as a monster, and so I behaved like one, but that was not who I was! This face, is!"

Rosalie stood up and looked and him in the eye, maintaining the boundary between father and daughter, "Papa, your face does not dictate who you should be on the inside. The outside has nothing to do with the inside. You are who you make yourself out to be, unless you have lied to me in your teachings of right and wrong."

Erik smiled at his daughter's familiar stubbornness, "Ma cherie, sometimes it is a little more complicated than that. But I think right now you may be too young to understand everything. Someday when you are a young woman wiser than me, we shall speak of this again."

"Yes, Papa," Rosalie sunk into the chair again, "Papa, when shall we go to see Mama again?"

"Today Angel, we shall go today." 

Rosalie smiled and hugged Erik. He knew that today would be another day of a custody battle and he also knew that some resolution needed to be thought up. He would have to face Christine and Raoul again. They would always be in his life, he had to face that.

As he suspected he heard a knock at the door. It was Christine. When he opened the door, he was shocked to see that she was crying. Without even a "hello" Christine wrapped her arms around Erik and cried into his shoulder. Rosalie entered the room quietly and observed what was going on.

Erik patted Christine's hair and waited until she stopped crying. And calmed her with his cool words asking her what was wrong. She looked into his eyes.

"Erik, I'm pregnant again."

Erik did not look surprised but his jealousy of the Vicomte did not exist anymore. He waited to hear more.

"Oh Erik, I'm so afraid. I know I told Raoul we would have more children but… the doctor always said more births would get complicated after Josette. I never thought that it could happen, I'm so old Erik, I'm too old. And Raoul is making it so hard! He doesn't…"

At this she stopped and pulled away from Erik's embrace. She noticed Rosalie staring at them, and pushed her into Erik's bedroom and closed the door. Erik had not seen Christine this agitated in awhile. He fought his urges to kill the Vicomte and concentrated on being a good friend.

He caught her shoulders and she leaned into him and he smelled the rose oil she used. So familiar. Erik felt Christine tremble in his arms and he tried to ignore what he felt and he knew she was trying as well. Christine turned around, still in his arms and looked in his eyes.

"Oh Erik, don't look at me like that."

"I cannot look at you any other way."

"Erik I love Raoul, I chose him."

"You and I both lied."

"It doesn't matter, I'm living with him, I'm raising my children with him. You and I had our chance, it wasn't meant to be. We were meant to be miserable."

Erik smiled, "Perhaps you're right."

Christine bit her lip, "Erik, Raoul thinks… he thinks the child isn't his."  
Erik blinked multiple times, "It's not… it can't be, it can't…"

"Oh Erik, I wish I knew. I can't say for sure!"


	27. Expectations

Chapter 27- Expectations

Erik sat down in the chair and held his head in his hands. Life had grown so much more complicated. He thought hard, the idea of having another child with Christine tickled him but he did not let any of that show. In reality he prayed the baby was not his. Rosalie had been lucky in her appearance but this one might not be so lucky. What if the baby had his face? That would clear things up easily.

"Oh Erik I knew we should have been more careful."  
Erik stood up forcefully, "You cannot blame me entirely Madame Countess!"  
Christine bit her lip and looked away, "Erik I'm so scared."

"Christine are you certain it could be mine?"

Christine nodded and then looked pensive, "We had been, we had been…"  
Erik tensed, "Alright, it is possible. It's possible. Well all we can do is wait for the baby to be born."

"But Erik that won't help, we'll never be able to know for sure."

Erik tensed, "Christine I'm certain that I will regret what I am about to say but I think that you should pretend that there is no doubt in your mind who the father is, I refuse to have anyone else go through what Rosalie has."

Christine's eyes widened, "But Erik what it's yours!"

"Christine, I don't want to do this anymore. Go back to your husband,  
Christine. Go rejoice in the news and take Rosalie, I'll come by for her lesson tomorrow afternoon. I don't want to talk about this again."

Christine opened her mouth as if she would say something and then shut it. She walked away in search of Rosalie, grasping her hand and left Erik alone with his thoughts. Of these he had many and he needed time to sort through the mass of them. He sat in his favorite chair and sighed, he just wanted peace after all of these years. It seemed no such wish would be granted. As he began to sort through the events of the past couple days he heard a familiar knock at the door.

Not wanting to deny his sense of serendipity, he crept towards the door with the elegance of a nobleman and the cautiousness of a convicted felon. His long fingers gripped the door knob and quaked some as in conjunction with his arm, he opened the large oak door. There, dripping wet and shivering in the rain was Isabelle. Her hair, which had been in an aristocratic knot upon her head, clung to her face and neck in wet sagging curls. Any makeup now dripped down her face as if to by some gravitational pull. Her fine clothes were deepened in color and clung to her tiny body. Erik had never seen anyone look more beautiful.

Without a word, she stepped inside and enveloped Erik with the embrace of a woman who had found her love at last. Not resisting her cluth, Erik returned the sentiment with a warmth he had not felt in a long time. Her wet clothes seeped into his fine suit the longer they clung to each other. Her body shivered from cold and from the aching knot in her stomach.

Erik fumbled for the buttons on her dress with an unprecedented tentativeness. The wet cloth clung to her body but soon they both sat in each other's embrace on the floor by the large hearth in the main parlor. Wrapped in a large blanket they kept each other warm and shared a special bond much stronger than they would ever feel for anyone again. Isabelle fell asleep and Erik held her for the longest time gazing at her face which glowed by the light of the dying fire. He felt truly content regardless of the world around him; all was right and Christine had been forever purged from his heart.


	28. Mirrors and Doors

Chapter 28- Mirrors and Doors

Erik awoke to find Isabelle still asleep and warm in his arms. The fire had burned out in the hearth not to be compared with their endless supply of love. He lay down again even though the sun peaked through the drawn curtains reminding him of the day. Isabelle's eyes fluttered and she opened them and gave him the most satisfied look on her face. Pure ecstasy.

Erik felt a pang in his stomach as the blissful ignorance of reality subsided. He felt like having a drink to maintain his content state but he couldn't find anything around. Isabelle had risen to get cleaned up. He really loved her, but he felt like a stormy petrel, discord seemed to follow him everywhere. All he ever wanted to do was forfend the people in his life that he loved and keep them from harm. He thought of Christine and shuddered. He did not want Isabelle to ever feel that way.

Erik ran his hand over his chin and his hand cringed at his unshaven jaw. His normally precise hygiene routine had become sporadic in these last couple days. All he wanted was a bath and a shave and to put on a fresh suit. He departed from his bedchamber to seek out another place to bathe without disturbing Isabelle.

Being legitimately wealthy and being expropriated from his lair in the opera house had its advantages—although he never had a problem when Christine had been his guest. Here in this lavish home he had bought, every bathroom had the proper furnishings and all of the modern conveniences. Hot water, indoor plumbing, and a superfluous supply of toiletries. When he had lived in Persia bathing had been like a ritual and he never seemed to outgrow it. He lay in his porcelain bathtub, closing his eyes, and inhaling the sweet-smelling steam from the eau de toilette he poured into the bath.

Being in the bath allowed him to reflect on everything and relieve his tension. Ever since his surgery he could not prevent himself from exploring is face with his hands and feeling each time as if he were a stranger. Not feeling the scars and malformations he had felt from before effected him with a peculiar sense of discomfort. He never regretted his decision very often but he could not help feel like he still wore a mask. Underneath this façade he still felt like the same misshapen hobbledehoy attempting to avoid the aspersions of society. 

He stepped out of the bath and put his silken robe on, staring at the fogged up mirror, a possession he had never owned willingly in his past life. He appeared as he felt, a blur, hazed in confusion. Never in his life had he felt so lost. All of his life he had known what he wanted and sought to get it. The only this he had never been able to make appear or disappear at will was his face. 

Now, he did not see himself. "At least," he thought, "as a monster I had a place in society, I knew who I was, I knew what I could have and what I could change, now…" Now being what he considered normal, perhaps surpassing the label, the world at his fingertips, decisions could not be made for him due to social blockades. He could have either woman of his dreams and he did not understand why he should have such difficulty deciding. In his past life the prospect of anyone loving him was so absurd that…

The steam had begun to clear from the mirror and he saw himself at last. How could he have not rationalized this before? His torpid mind awoke in splendor at the simplicity of it all. Isabelle saw him and had always seen him. Christine never really saw him when he had been at his worst. Isabelle had claimed to be in love with him when he had been at his lowest point in life, his ugliest, inside and out. Christine had… well, that story was obvious.

After shaving he ran his hand along the smooth surface of his chin and felt content in body and spirit. He admired his dress suit and knew that his future would no longer be so unclear. Suddenly he remember what he and Christine had last talked about.—a baby. His mood altered as quickly as before. Another child… another argument with Raoul… another Rosalie…

He doubted he was the father but… anything was possible. All he could do was complete his life as it was now and wait for the birth of the child to see what was to be done. Isabelle knocked at the door and Erik opened with a new feeling. Isabelle looked radiant and kissed him lightly on his shaven cheek and whispered, "I love you," in his ear.

As they enjoyed their private moment, a ring at the door separated them again. Erik squeezed her shoulders and quizzically went to answer the door, not expecting anyone at this early hour. When he opened the door, he could not believe who he saw. All of this life, the arrival of an unexpected visitor in an open doorway had somehow altered his life in a large way. So when he saw the Count de Chagny standing in his doorway with his attire disheveled and disposition defeated, Erik braced himself for the worst.


	29. Another Note

Chapter 29- Another Note

Erik did not move, but a flood of visions ran through his mind as he observed the Vicomte in a state he had often seen in his mind. Now the vision did not make him smile as he thought it might someday. No, now he drew up a hundred reasons why Raoul would be standing at his doorway, alone. Rosalie, Christine, the baby…

"Monsieur, may I please come in?" Raoul murmured his phrasing as if the words pained him to say. Erik knew how he would feel if a day might come where he had to crawl over to the de Chagny mansion and complied without any objection. He led Raoul into the parlor where he offered him a glass of brandy which Raoul took and gulped down.

Erik sat down and tried to maintain calm composure when all he wanted to do was explode with emotion, "Monsieur, what has happened?"  
Raoul looked at his glass and did not look at Erik in the face, "Sir, I would not have come except that she… she asked that I summon you immediately."   
Erik, "She…?"

Raoul looked up annoyed, "Christine, Monsieur, she has taken ill. She lost…" he bent his head down unsure of how to proceed next, "she lost the baby."

Erik exhaled and sunk into his seat. What could have happened? He tried to flush any distasteful thoughts about Christine's honesty out of his mind but he could not help but wonder if she had taken measures to prevent any conflict regarding this baby even if it meant…

He cleared his throat to break his thoughts, "Monsieur, please, is she…" he could not bring himself to ask the question but it did not seem to matter.

"No, she is alive, although barely," the Vicomte could not maintain eye contact with Erik. Erik was certain that part of Raoul blamed him for what happened but nothing in his gentlemanly nature would let Erik know this sentiment.

Raoul reached with trembling hand into his pockets as he pulled out a small glass bottle that appeared to be empty. He handed it to Erik who knew immediately what it was and where it had come from.

"How did she…?" he took the bottle and smelled the contents carefully to confirm his suspicions. Tansy oil. He kept a bottle along with many other herbs and oils in his own private apothecary kit he had had since he learned those many remedies from the old gypsy lady from the traveling fair. He could not believe that Christine would have known to take that particular vile, common for abortive uses but very dangerous. Then he knew why the Vicomte had come. Raoul believed that Erik had given this to her.

"Monsieur de Chagny, I hope you are not suggesting that I gave Christine consent to take this for that is inconceivable," he stood up forcefully and Raoul gained strength as his stood in opposition.

"I do not believe you Monsieur! Christine could not have been lead to this particular drug without your… specific expertise." Raoul chose his words carefully.

Erik tried to remain calm without allowing years of hate towards his rival cloud his judgement, "Monsieur, this 'drug' as you call it is tansy oil. A poison. In small quantities perhaps not so life threatening but the entire bottle…" he let the words out slowly, "At this quantity I am amazed she is not dead. I would never have advised this in any circumstance. The risk is too great."  
Raoul heard the logic and slumped in defeat; he knew Erik would never put Christine in any kind of harm. Still the question remained, "Then how did she know to use this plant?" 

Erik came to a realization, "Monsieur, the life of an actress is not without its unpleasantries. Not all of the women of the stage are as distinguished as Mme. Daae…de Chagny. It would not surprise me in the least if she got her information there. Rather than find an unsuitable vender, Christine knew that I kept a certain amount of herbs for my own personal use. I suppose she must have gotten it when she came for Rosalie."

Everything made sense, although Christine's condition remained unknown to Erik. "Please Monsieur, take me to Christine, I may be able to help her get well. Or at least reinforce what the doctor has done."

Raoul nodded and mumbled gratitude. He seemed disappointed that he could not blame his wife's lack of integrity on Erik, it was common practice. Erik went up to his bedchamber into his stock of herbs and medicines and took what he needed. It was then he saw Isabelle's robe on the bed. Isabelle!  
Erik ran downstairs and Raoul stood up and handed him a note coolly stating, "A woman left this for you. She seemed urgent to leave." Panicked, Erik read the note.

_Erik—   
You do not surprise me in your sudden need to help your beloved Christine.  
Perhaps your heart has still not let go.  
I suppose I know how you feel, for I will never let you go.  
If you truly love me, I know we will see each other again._

-Isabelle


	30. Fin

Chapter 30: Fin

The rain poured down in massive sheets as Erik sought the find any visible trace of Isabelle's carriage. His suit now drenched from the storm which had lasted for the past couple days. Thoughts of failure ran through his mind and his heart ached as he pictured never seeing her again. It had been many years since he had experienced such sense of loss. All those years ago, when Christine had left and he destroyed every connective memory. The same fire burned inside him only he felt compelled to find his love.

It occurred to him that Isabelle may have come by horseback for the night she arrived she had been soaked to the skin. He kept running although he heard lightening and thunder in the clouds. Losing grace and poise he normally possessed with each step. Now older he lost momentum in his stride and bent over to catch his breath.

In the darkness he saw nothing. No trace of his beloved, just the bleak distress of night. Normally the night would comfort him and cloak him like a blanket, but tonight, the night refused any ease his anguish except for the rain which concealed his tears.

His hands twitched as his sides, seeking a keyboard. So many years he spent sedulous study with his music and now his skills were not practicable to win back his love. For Christine the music had swirled within their souls like a cyclone and any return to that kind of passion brought had brought them together for short time.

Erik did not realize until then that it was only the music within him that Christine connected to. Their souls were linked through the bonds of notes and cadenzas and arias but nothing tangible. It occurred to Erik that Christine was more lost than he had ever been.

Trudging back to the house he closed the door and left wet footprints all over the carpet. He saw his piano sitting invitingly in the parlor and it drew him like a moth to a flame. His fingers toured the keys as if responded to his soul which sought any way to communicate his pain. Suddenly his voice joined the bravura which filled the house with longing. The years of singing for the opera company had tested and perfected his already angelic voice.

The house almost wept in the presence of such beauty. Tears of his own spilled out onto the keyboard which he now pounded upon with ferocity. As if in a trance, fire flowed from his fingertips and out through the strings of the piano resonating with passion. He wondered how he could survive the heartache if he never saw Isabelle again. Rosalie would fill his days with purpose and even love but a part of him would always feel missing.

The weeping in his voice made the room cry. He had suffered and gained so much over the years and now he felt his journey through love ending with a sweep of his fingers across the ivory keys. The weeping grew into an audible plaudit for Erik's music. The voice sounded almost human, and suddenly Erik stopped his heart lurched in his chest. That voice… he knew it, it had not been his imagination but real!

He nearly fell off of the piano bench in pursuit of the sound which now stopped and seemed to move further away from him. Erik halted in his tracks and listened, he moved with more agility and he once had to escape from Persian police all of those years ago. Tiptoeing around the room he pounced on a figure who hid behind the sofa. She wrestled him but he had strength and did not use all of it to contain her outcries.

Aware of whom he held in his arms he tried to calm her through embrace but she resisted for a few moments and then gave up the attempt and lay limp in his arms crying in frustration and in relief. Erik kissed her tears and stroked her hair weeping himself for joy of finding his love, "Oh Isabelle," he cried clinging to her for fear she would disappear from him again.

She spoke quivering in his arms, "I could not leave you, Erik! I tried! I tried…" her voice trailed off as her words were muffled by Erik's embrace, "Damn you for making me care about you, making me love you! Damn your wretched music!" Erik tried to hold back a laugh but it escaped and he looked into her eyes smiling.

"Do you think I would have given you up so easily?" She returned his gaze with eyes reddened from the salt tears.

"Did you really think I could leave? You hold such power over me, it simply is not fair." They hugged again and this time Erik knew his happiness would never leave his life again. His journey had ended and a new road lay before him, a road which he would never be forced to travel alone again.


End file.
